


if u love me now

by thisismelodrama



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: (in the last chapter), 69 (Sex Position), Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bartender Ben Solo, Ben Solo Needs A Hug, Ben likes Rey’s cat and she’s emotional about it, Bisexual Rey (Star Wars), Breeding Kink, But no actual pregnancy or mentions of it, Cunnilingus, Deepthroating, Dirty Talk, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Friends With Benefits, Idiots in Love, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Light Dom/sub, Lord help them they're DUMB, Mild Dub-Con Somnophilia, Miscommunication, Mutual Pining, Older Man/Younger Woman, Praise Kink, Rey Doesn’t Know What She’s Doing But She Is TRYING, Rey Needs A Hug (Star Wars), Safe to Read if You're Triggered by Pregnancy, Unsafe Sex, lovable idiots, more like fuck buddies, tw alcohol
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-11
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:21:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 27,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27942923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisismelodrama/pseuds/thisismelodrama
Summary: Rey and Ben are at different stages in their lives; she’s barely just started hers, and he’s mending the pieces of his back together.It’s a disaster waiting to happen.
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 157
Kudos: 279
Collections: Queerly Beloved Reylo Fics, Reylo Prompt Fills (@reylo_prompts)





	1. i could read your mind (i know what you're thinking)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [diasterisms](https://archiveofourown.org/users/diasterisms/gifts), [joleashitsthetic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/joleashitsthetic/gifts).



> Almost two months ago, [Ju](https://twitter.com/pattinsondriver) and [Thea](https://twitter.com/kylorenvevo) asked for someone to write [this post](https://twitter.com/redditships/status/1316080727780360193) as a Reylo AU and I agreed to write an oneshot that ultimately took over my life during Nano and became a multi-chap fic lol so this is pretty much already finished and I intend to post one chapter per week. Thank you, Ju, for your support during this whole year we've known each other. And thank you, Thea, for giving me the inspiration to write Reylo and even allowing me to use your cat's name as a small tribute 🥰💕
> 
> And thank you [maddy](https://twitter.com/darthswift13), [meg](https://twitter.com/redbelles) and [mila](https://twitter.com/nocturnes) for helping me turn this mess into something readable. Y'all are angels and I love y'all so much 🥰💕

There's me in the doorway telling you, please  
You should just let me leave  
If you love me now  
  


— MUNA, If U Love Me Now  
  
**[suggested playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1MY0rLLmeZcY5O5KaArIqO?si=DAXxDcEySlKfRMBc5iFU0Q) **

Rey comes home from the waitressing gig Finn arranged for her and flops down on her bed, letting out a long-suffering sigh. After a long week of never-ending classes and three part-time jobs—elderly caretaker, dog walker, community center computer class instructor— she wishes she didn’t have to work on Saturdays, but she needs the money and waitressing at a fancy party for fancy rich people pays more than what she gets in a week dog walking all the dogs in the neighborhood. She also received generous tips. And the food was amazing—some of it she even stole and brought home.

With the long week Rey had, she knows she should feel exhausted, but it turns out she doesn't. On the contrary, she feels a strange kind of energy buzzing inside her, begging for release.

Perhaps she wore herself out to the point of her body not recognizing the signs of exhaustion, not allowing her to fully shut down and rest.

Or perhaps she just needs to come.

The first option gives her pause. Because the truth is, she knows she's been overworking herself; attempting to juggle her classes at Chandrila’s community college to get her degree in social work and three part-time jobs to survive every month. It’s often more than crushing and she at least acknowledges to herself that it's making her sick. But she avoids looking at it too closely because dwelling on it too much won’t do her any good; it will just make her feel more miserable. This is her life and her reality, and she needs to afford rent and food. It's been like this for as long as she can remember; no point in crying over it now.

The second option is easier to handle and way more fun. Rey considers, for a moment, stretching her arm and opening the nightstand’s first drawer that's beside her bed and taking out her most expensive vibrator to make her come until she's numb and sated, riding the endorphin high until she falls asleep. But she also knows, as soon as the thought of having orgasms crossed her mind, he’s right there, almost as an afterthought.

These days, Rey thinks of him so often she hardly remembers what life was like before she knew him, before he wasn't constantly on her mind, concerning her about their little arrangement because she keeps advancing into uncharted and dangerous territory. It's like that time when she was a teenager and the boys she lived with in the same foster home dared her to go out beyond the shallow end of the community pool, and she accepted the dare. Rey is nothing if not extremely stubborn and extremely competitive, even though she almost drowned because she’s never learned to swim.

Only this time, she's doing it unconsciously, approaching the deep end of the pool deliberately, and frequently having to remind herself to step back.

But then again, this is just another thing she avoids analyzing too closely. It's another thing she stores in the deepest corners of her mind and adds to the list of _Things to Ignore Until She Dies of Emotional Constipation_ , _Thank You Very Much_.

For what it's worth, the fact that she recognizes it for what it is is a huge step for her. So it's almost a win.

_Almost_.

She really, really shouldn't text him.

But she fantasizes about big arms reaching around her waist, and a thick, big cock thrusting inside her cunt and touching all the right places inside her, places she never manages to find alone. And oh, it's such a ridiculous thing to think, the fact that she can't satisfy herself anymore after him. Very anti-feminist of her.

Oh, well, what she can say?

Not even her most precious toy compares to the real thing. She salivates at the thought of it.

“God, I really shouldn't,” she groans under her breath, trying to convince herself.

In the end, Rey loses the battle against herself, and she does stretch her arm to the nightstand placed beside the bed, but it's to catch her phone instead.

_It’s the last time_ , she promises herself for probably the thousandth time, which is already a contradiction, and just shows how little self-control she has.

Ignoring how late it is and hanging on the hopes he's still awake and maybe closing the pub, she worries for a moment about what to send until she decides she doesn't care and neither will he—probably—and types a text:

####  **Today** , 1:03 AM

Rey
    u up?

Ben
    Closing the pub.
    What's up?

Annoyed, Rey huffs out a breath. He _knows_ exactly “what’s up”, or better yet, what part of his body she wants to _be_ up. But lately, almost as if he's punishing her for disappearing on him for weeks, he’s making her throw in an extra effort with these booty calls, which honestly pisses her the fuck off, leading her take it out on him during sex. They have amazing rough sex that ends with them panting and Rey losing the ability to move her legs for a while, leaving her sore for days.

(She loves it.)

It’s a vicious cycle and she doesn't really know _why_ he's been giving her a hard time; he never once refused to fuck her whenever she texted, he always respected her boundaries, and never asked for anything outside of their agreement.

Rey can’t avoid rolling her eyes before she loses her patience and crudely texts him:

  


Rey
  
    wanna get fucked on your cock. come over?
  


  


Ben
  
    Sure. Give me twenty.
  


Immediately excited about how the rest of her night is gonna go, she bites her lip, barely able to suppress her grin.

And then, almost as if he senses there's someone coming, Pancakes, her stupid, fat cat waddles into the room. He jumps up the bed, settling on top of her stomach, looking at Rey with his usual killer glare, as if he's judging her.

“You’re gonna behave when he gets here, right, Pancakes?” she asks, already knowing the answer. He meows conspicuously.

It's almost as if he's warning her he won't.

“You little shit,” she says, rubbing the top of his head as he purrs contentedly.

Exactly twenty minutes later, Ben rings her apartment’s doorbell.

🐱✨🐱

_six months ago._

Rey is on the verge of an enormous breakdown. Sitting beside Finn on a bench close to the building where she takes most of her classes, she squints at her phone, looking at her student’s online portal, and there it is, a B on her political science midterm paper, tarnishing her perfect record of straight As so far.

“I’m gonna lose my fucking shit,” Rey groans. “Seriously, Finn, I’m gonna end it all.”

Finn remains focused on his phone. Rey tilts her head to look at him and punches his upper arm.

“Oi! What’s that for?”

“I’m having a nervous breakdown and—” she moves her body closer to peek at his phone screen, to which he just bats his arm away, a second too late. “You’re _sexting?!_ It’s four in the afternoon!”

“So?” he asks, unfazed. “It's been _weeks_ since the last time I saw Poe. We have our needs.”

“ _Okay,_ I don't wanna know—”

“Besides, Rey, you _know_ getting a B on a paper isn't the end of the world—”

“You don't understand, I’m losing it, mate—”

“Aren’t you so dramatic?” he tells her, not unkindly. She scoffs and he smiles at her. “You and your perfect record are going to be just fine. Don’t worry.”

Rey is not convinced. She glances at her phone again, stressing over the things she could’ve done better to get a better grade.

“Okay, that’s it,” Finn mutters. “I’m confiscating this.”

And he snatches the phone from her hands.

Rey protests, trying to pry her phone from his hands. He doesn't let her, though, and she crosses her arms, rolling her eyes at him.

“I’ll give you your phone back,” he declares. “On one condition.”

“It’s _my_ phone, you idiot.”

“One condition, Rey.”

She lets out a heavy sigh. “... _Fine._ ”

“Okay. Promise me you won’t stress over your grades anymore—”

Rey opens her mouth to protest.

Finn sighs. “At least for _today_ , please?”

“Deal.”

“That’s my girl.”

Finn hands her phone back. “Anyway, lovely to hang out with you, but I gotta go meet Poe.”

“Yeah, yeah, go have sex.” She dismisses him with her other hand.

“I will,” he gets up off the bench and jokes, “You should definitely try it sometime.”

She flips him off and he walks away laughing.

🐱✨🐱

The thing is, on the night that she meets him, Rey isn’t even supposed to be at his pub. And yet, a series of unfortunate events that plagued her since she woke up—no hot water for her to shower before she went to the first part-time job of the day, a new barista at the coffee shop on campus made her order wrong, the stupid B she's got on her midterm paper, and the fact that the family of the girl she babysat for about a year simply decided her work wasn't needed anymore—leads her there.

She's had an awful week. She deserves a shot (or several).

She diverts from her path home just from a few blocks and strolls across the street to a pub named _Solo’s_ , the glowing neon green sign almost falling off from where it’s stuck up high on the wall, its apostrophe no longer lit, leaving a separate space between the _O_ and the _S_. Rey has heard about this pub before; it’s pretty famous around Chandrila, and most of her classmates have gone to happy hour there after class. A sign that reads _OPEN_ hangs on the door.

Rey waltzes in and scans the pub. The decoration is simple and it’s smaller than Rey imagined it would be. The walls are all painted red and green. There’s a pool billiard in the far back of the corner, and a jukebox to the left side. A few frames are stuck in the walls, with pictures of a man beside an F1 car that Rey doesn’t recognize, and other frames with cliché phrases, like _Alcohol may not solve your problems, but neither will water._

Behind the counter, there’s a blackboard announcing some football team’s games are all played live. There are a few lamps shaped like cones hanging from the ceiling, illuminating the counter with a rich yellow light, making the place look warm and inviting.

There are only a few patrons inside, divided between the few tables available, and the bartender—a tall man with shoulder-length black hair, wearing a black tee that’s probably one size too small, because it seems like it’s gonna burst out of his muscled arms sometime soon—is focused on cleaning the bar. She strides in large steps towards the counter, plopping on one of the leather stools underneath it, putting her backpack on one stool beside her. The bartender raises his head, his enormous hand clutching the white rag, and eyes her warily like she interrupted a sacred moment or something like that.

She stares back, raising an eyebrow. She utters, “Shot of tequila. Your cheapest, please.”

Rey tilts her head and looks around once more, and when her eyes gaze back at the bartender, he’s still staring at her, looking her up and down over the counter, suspicion written all over his face.

“What?”

He raises his eyebrows, drapes the white cloth on his shoulder, and crosses his arms, giving her a hard stare, and his voice is just as hard when he asks, “Are you even legal?”

Rey’s momentarily too focused on the way his black tee strains against his hard, huge chest, the fullness of his lips, and the way his deep voice rumbles in a way that makes her tightly clench her thighs, so she doesn’t entirely understand his question. He clears his throat and her gaze snaps back to his face. Her cheeks redden immediately, at being caught staring so blatantly. “I’m sorry—what?”

He reiterates slowly. “Are you legal?”

Rey chuckles. It’s been a while since she’s been asked that question. Not that it ever stopped her from underage drinking before. She almost fishes her ID out of her backpack, but the way he’s acting and the fact that he thinks she seems younger than she really is entertains her. So she settles her elbows on the counter and puts her hands under her chin, smiles sweetly at him, and asks, “What do you think?”

His expression hardens, proving to her he won’t fall for her bullshit. “I think that, if you’re not going to show me an ID, I’m gonna ask you to leave, miss.”

Rey rolls her eyes and sighs, but she turns her body around and opens her backpack, fishing out her wallet and ID and showing it to him. “See?” she asks, sassily. “I’m already 21.” He visibly relaxes, uncrossing his arms. “Now please my shot, _sir,_ thank you.”

He swivels around, grabbing a bottle of tequila off the top shelf and a shot glass off the bottom shelf, turning back to her and putting both on the counter. He pours it down, maintaining eye contact. He finishes it and slides the glass in her direction.

Rey notices he’s been staring at her Nirvana t-shirt all the while. So she gulps down the shot in one go, grimaces a little, and questions, “You’re a fan, too?”

He lets out a low chuckle, crossing his arms again. “Used to be. When I was an angry, emo teenager. But girls your age don’t usually like this stuff.”

Rey scoffs. “First, that’s so _insulting_. Why am I supposed to enjoy things that most people my age do? It makes absolutely no sense. Second, it’s the second time you’ve mentioned my age in such a short time. Is it a bartender thing or a _you_ thing?” she finishes, scrunching her nose.

His eyes wrinkle with amusement before he answers, “Probably me.”

“Mmm.” Rey motions for him to pour her another shot. After he does, she continues teasingly, “And since you seem to be pushing forty, I assume you cried over Cobain’s death?” She does it on purpose to get back at him for mocking her taste. There's no way he's _that_ old. He gives her the same hard stare he gave her when he asked if she was legal. She downs the drink again and puts her hands up in surrender. “Sorry, I’m kidding. Thirty?” she tries, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.

They exchange a glance and Rey can’t explain _why_ his stare is almost making her melt on the spot. There's something about the way she feels when he looks at her with his whiskey brown eyes that make her want to know more about him, and for him to keep talking with that beautiful, deep voice…

“Just turned thirty-one a month ago,” he replies, his eyes roaming over her shirt and coming back up to her face.

Rey does the count in her head and squints her eyes at him. “Wow, I can’t believe you’re giving me shit for being a Nirvana fan when you were just a kid when he died.”

He laughs and opens his mouth to say something, but someone on the other side of the counter calls him over, “Ben!”

He spares her one last glance and then strolls to the other side of the counter, where a redhead man engages in a conversation with him as soon as Ben approaches him. Rey tries really hard not to keep staring, but she feels like there’s a pull between them, and every time she steals glances over to where he is, he catches her gaze and an adorable blush surges on the tip of his ears. She can’t help but smile.

The pub starts to get crowded.

It’s a Friday, after all.

A girl named Rose hops on the other side of the counter and begins to serve patrons’ requests, including Rey’s. Another girl named Tallie joins Rose later, and she works flawlessly as a waitress, her gait precise and steady, swaying through the swarm of people.

Ben—Rey enjoys saying his name in her head—doesn’t stop to talk to her anymore for the rest of the night, except for a few stolen glances here and there, as if he’s still making sure she’s still there. At some point in the night and many shots later, Rey starts to feel the effects of the alcohol on her brain and body. She feels buzzed with energy. There’s a cheery song she doesn’t recognize playing in the jukebox and the air smells like a mix of alcohol and cigarettes and she doesn’t even care, because everyone around her seems to be having such a good time. She laughs alone, completely forgetting the shit week she’s had, and just enjoys how her inhibitions are slowly coming down, giving way to thoughts sober, rational Rey definitely would have, but wouldn’t even dream of acting upon. Like: it might be a good idea to shag the bartender. He’s just so handsome and completely her type. She imagines what he can do with those full lips of his. She wonders how soft his hair is, and how pretty it would look, with his head buried between her legs. It’s been _so long_ she last had sex, and she would be following her best friend’s advice, right?

Besides, Rey has always been into older men.

She cocks her head, scanning the pub for him, when she finally finds him standing near the jukebox, talking to the same redhead man from earlier. She considers going over there and talking to him, but she’s not entirely sure she can sustain herself on her legs without wobbling. But it’s not even necessary to call his attention, because like magnets pulling them towards each other, Ben catches her eyes again, and Rey doesn’t know if it’s her mind playing tricks on her, because she has the impression that his eyes have somehow become darker than they were earlier. She bites her lip, feeling her face get warmer—not just because of the shots. He says something to the man and smiles. Then, with purpose, gaze focused on her, he strides towards her, and Rey swears she forgets how to breathe for just a second.

🐱✨🐱

Ever since inheriting the pub from his father, Ben has been trying to put his life back on track. Because there comes a point in a man’s life where you have to fix your shit and try your hardest to not fuck up anymore, so he has promised himself only one thing: to _never, ever_ sleep with a patron, because that’s just asking for trouble. _Especially_ if they’re younger, because then it’s a whole other level of trouble.

It’s asking for a disaster to happen.

In the year he’s been running the pub, he can say with certainty that it hasn’t been difficult, keeping that promise. He doesn’t fit the movie stereotypes for what it means to be a bartender: people go there asking for a drink, unconsciously willing to vent their life’s story just so they can get some advice in return. Words that will help them change their lives or fix a problem. He isn’t good at that; he likes to do his work—serving drinks—and stay focused, keeping his mouth shut, most of the time dreaming about the end of his shift, so he can get upstairs, flop down on his bed and sleep like the dead. It’s been so chaotic and tiring—to get the pub up and running, trying to restore its gold days’ glory, when people from everywhere in the country used to come there to have a drink with the infamous F1 racer, Han Solo—he stopped caring about his personal and love life, going more than a year without sex.

It’s been fine, really. He’s hardly missed it. For a whole year.

Until, of course, _she_ waltzes in his pub.

Ben notices her as soon as she walks through the door, wearing jeans shorts that shows off her tan, long legs, and the most basic, common Nirvana t-shirt—black with a yellow, smiling face darting its tongue out—and black boots, her hair up in a messy bun, a few strands falling on each side of her ears. She spins around a little bit, scanning the pub, and gives him an eyeful of a shapely, pert ass that immediately makes his mouth water. He chastises himself mentally for his inappropriate thoughts, and when she tilts her head and he can see she’s coming to the bar, he pretends to be wiping and cleaning the counter, even though he did that five minutes ago.

She plops down on the stool in front of him and he finally raises his head and looks at her, finding a beautiful, freckled face staring back at him, pink lips that seem to beg for him to nibble on them. She seems to be _so young_.

More than that.

Ben is a hundred percent sure she’s probably not even legal.

It makes him feel like a disgusting creep, with the way he ogled her.

He voices his concerns about her age more harshly than he should, it’s true. Maybe, in a fucked up way, he’s trying to punish her for being so young, for disturbing his peace, breaking his self-control.

And then she opens her mouth with a sassy comeback, proves to him she’s legal, _yes_ —like that makes him feel _less_ guilty—smiles at him like she’s got sunshine in her eyes, and teases and makes him laugh, and calls him _sir_ in an accent that drives him out of his mind.

When Armie detracts his attention from her—not like he _wants_ to stay away from her—and he really, truly starts working, people coming in and the pub getting crowded by the second, and her smile is still stuck on his mind, the only thing he can think is: _fuck._

🐱✨🐱

It’s hard for Ben to concentrate on work.

The pub is packed, and it’s obvious Rose and Tallie can’t handle the amount of work just between the two of them, so he helps around waiting tables, all the while warring with himself against the urge of staring at her like a creep. But it’s a war he loses constantly, for the entire night—it’s like there’s an invisible string pulling him towards her. And even though he also tells himself—constantly, for the entire night—that it’s a _bad idea_ to _even look_ at her, he can’t help it. She’s _so_ gorgeous and he knows it’s just been hours, but he keeps seeing her smile in his mind like it’s been imprinted on him, like it’s always been there.

Despite being entirely conscious of her presence, Ben tries to pay attention to what Hux is telling him. He focuses his gaze on his best friend and entertains his rambling for a while.

Ben’s mistake is to tilt his head just an inch and catch her gaze directly landing on him. Her cheeks are flushed in a pretty shade of red and she bites her lip when they glance at each other.

He wants to fuck her.

He wants everyone to leave, close the pub, bend her over the counter, and make her scream his name while he makes her come on his cock again and again, until she forgets who she is, until she forgets anyone else ever fucked her.

It’s involuntary, really.

His words are out of his mouth before he can’t even think about what he’s doing, not even waiting for his best friend’s response. “I gotta go, Armie.”

Then, with purpose, and fully knowing that he shouldn’t, that this is a disaster waiting to happen, he strides towards her, eying her hungrily.

🐱✨🐱

When Ben finally gets back behind the counter, he fully intends on asking for her number. But just one glance at her tells him she’s in no condition to make any consensual decisions about it, so he shuts his mouth. She leans over the counter, places her elbows on top of it, and peers up at him.

“Ben,” she slurs. “What took you so long?”

“Mmm. Work,” he says, lamely.

“I’m Rey, by the way.”

“I know,” he replies. He eyes her worriedly and asks, “I peeped at your ID earlier, remember?”

She tsks, squinting her eyes at him, and then, “I was just wondering… has it always been your dream to own a pub or is this just an early midlife crisis?”

Been chuckles softly. “No. It was my father’s. He wanted me to have it.”

Realization dawns on her face and she puts a hand on her mouth, eyes wide. Her accent seems to get thicker.

“ _Shit_. Oh, _fucking shit._ I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.” She seems so embarrassed, darting her head around, avoiding his eyes. She mutters under her breath, “Apparently, tequila turns me into a rude, questioning bitch. I’m sorry.”

Ben can’t contain his impulse. He grabs her hand, closing it around his awkwardly, his thumb pressing onto the soft hollow in the center of her palm. She cocks her head, snaps her gaze back at him, and then at their joined hands.

Ben clears his throat and drops her hand. “It’s fine,” he says softly. “It’s been over a year.”

She doesn’t stop staring at him, and the silence between them stretches into something charged and almost palpable.

It assures Ben she wants him, too.

She darts her eyes for a moment, then glances back at him, worrying her bottom lip between her white, perfect teeth. “Well,” she starts. “If it’s worth it, I’m an orphan, so I know how you feel. Is your mom still around?”

He nods. “Yeah, she is.”

“Ah,” she clicks her tongue. “You’re doing better than me, then.”

“Sure, Nirvana fan,” Ben jokes, trying to lighten the mood.

She scoffs, feigning offense. And tells him the truth: “To be honest, this isn’t mine. It’s my ex’s.”

Ben hums, trying to appear as nonchalantly as possible when he asks: “Reminiscing?”

Rey grimaces like the idea is preposterous. It warms something in Ben’s chest and he tries to tamp it down. “Not really. Just gotta do my laundry.”

He laughs. “Ah yes, I remember those times, when I was drowning in classes and papers to turn in and forgot to even breathe. Laundry was the last thing I had on my mind.”

“It probably would be better if I was reminiscing, though, right? Missing her and shit like that.”

“That depends.”

“Because in reality, I stole this shirt from her, right after she dumped me.”

He tells himself not to ask, but he can’t stop it. “Why did she dump you?”

She shrugs. Averts her eyes, as if she can’t really look at him as she tells him: “Who knows.”

“You, maybe?”

She sighs and admits. “Yeah, I do.” He waits. A second later, she looks him straight in the eye, and he doesn't know why he suddenly feels like she’s warning him. “She finally realized I’m emotionally unavailable.” She looks down on the counter, avoiding his eyes again. “Which is… good for her, I think. She deserves better, anyway.” Her shoulders hunch just a bit, as if she hasn’t thought about it for a while and what happened still saddens her. Snapping her gaze back at him, she utters in an over cheerfully fake way, “And it sucks for me, obviously. Because the sex was fantastic.”

Ben doesn’t really know what to say, so he just hums a noncommittal, “Mmm.”

For a moment, neither of them says anything else. He snatches the white rag out of his jeans pocket and starts cleaning the counter again, fully aware that her gaze is locked on him.

“Ben.”

“Yes?” He snaps his head up to peer at her.

“I’m bisexual,” Rey tells him, her eyes moving from his eyes to his lips. She licks her lips, pink tongue darting out of her mouth just to make him go insane. “Just so you know.”

He swallows thickly and nods. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Come on, mate,” she huffs out a breath, annoyed. “This isn’t a John Green novel.”

He frowns. “Who?”

Rey rolls her eyes, and then impatiently blurts out, “I know you want to fuck me.”

Ben is a bit taken aback at her bluntness. Her gaze is fierce and decided, chin up in defiance, as if saying she won’t let him get away with denying it.

And _god_ , he knows he really should deny it. He should be a good man and do the right thing, and make good on his promise to simply not get involved. She’s so _young_. They’re not in the same stage in their lives, not by a long shot, and he’s pretty sure they have nothing in common and couldn’t possibly be looking for the same thing. She probably just wants to hook-up; he, on the other hand, can’t bother to try something that will lead nowhere. He’d like to settle down, someday.

He should just help her ask for a Lyft and tell her to go home. She probably won’t even remember him tomorrow.

It shouldn’t be a hard decision, but it is. Because all he can think about while she stares at her, all wide-eyed and flushed, is if she gets exactly like this after she comes. He can’t stop thinking about putting his mouth on every inch of her body or finding out how much she can take of his cock in that snarky little mouth of hers.

In the end, it’s so easy for him to admit in a low voice, “Yes, I want to fuck you.”

The smile she gives him is wide and mischievous, and not for the first time that night, he realizes how fucked he is.

“But not tonight.”

She frowns. “Why not?”

“Can’t do anything with you while you’re drunk.”

Rey’s mouth turns into an adorable little pout, and he fights the urge to lean over the counter and kiss it off of her. “I’m _hardly_ drunk. I’ve been talking with you all night—”

Ben shakes his head, lifting the white flannel and putting across his left shoulder. “Go home. I’ll give you my number. If you’re still into the idea when you’re sober, give me a call.”

Rey rolls her eyes. “God, _no one_ does that anymore. I’ll text you, instead.”

“Fine, text me or whatever,” he replies. She hands him her phone and he types his number, putting his name as _Ben Solo_ (bartender), and then he feels ridiculous about it, of reducing his entire existence to just a bartender _._ And, frankly, the idea of her needing a reminder of exactly who he is makes him uncomfortable, so he deletes it.

If she remembers him, he hopes it’s just as Ben Solo.

He hands her phone back.

“Okay,” she stares down at her phone, and he can see she orders a Lyft herself, then puts it in her shorts pocket. She fiddles with a few strands of hair, not really looking at him, and it crosses his mind that perhaps she’s embarrassed. She drops a few bills on top of the counter and grabs her backpack, tilting her head to look at him, “I’ll get going, then.”

“Wait,” he says.

Ben raises his arm, calling Rose to come work behind the counter so he can take a break.

“What?” Rey asks.

“I’ll wait outside for your Lyft with you,” he offers.

Rey laughs, eyes glinting with amusement and teases him, “Very gentlemanly of you, especially since you’re not getting laid tonight.”

They’re out of the door when Ben leans down to whisper teasingly in her ear, “Ah, well, I’m hoping I get to, someday.”

Rey spins around suddenly, surprising him. Their faces are inches apart.

It’s dark in the street, the old neon signs of the pub the only light illuminating where they’re standing close to each other. Still, he can make out her freckled cheeks and her eyes’ pretty shade of hazel. He can smell the tequila off her breath.

“I know you want me to be sober,” she murmurs hoarsely, her hands coming up to wind around his neck, “but I think we should at the very least kiss to seal the deal. Give each other a taste of what’s coming.” Her fingers tangle in his hair and he almost groans at her touch, at the way she’s almost unraveling him with just the tip of her fingers. He gulps down, his Adam’s apple bobbing and she whispers, almost shyly, “Please kiss me. I’ve been thinking about your lips all night.”

_It’s a bad idea_ , an inner voice deep inside him repeats his earlier warning, but—

When he slants his lips on hers, it’s difficult to give reason to his worries, because how could this be a bad idea? Her lips are soft on his, and she sighs into the kiss and opens her mouth willingly, inviting him in, tongues brushing against each other in a way that makes his head spin and his cock twitch traitorously inside his jeans.

_It’s just a kiss_ , he warns himself, trying to lower his expectations, but Rey groans into his mouth, burrows deeper into him, her hands clinging to his neck, and _oh_ it’s involuntary, how his hands roam down her body, fondling her ass, pulling her closer, pressuring her into his already hard cock. She breaks the kiss with a gasp and moans, “ _Oh fuck, fuck,_ Ben, are you sure you don’t want to—” she grinds against him, letting out a soft wail. “ _Please_.”

Ben nibbles on her bottom lip and closes his arms under her ass, humping into her repeatedly.

“ _Fucking shit_ ,” she rasps, clinging to his muscled arms and digging her nails on them, “You’re gonna make me—”

He moves his mouth to her earlobe, still rolling his hips against hers, “Be a good girl for me and don’t come. Wait for when I fill you with my cock, okay?”

“ _Ben_ ,” she croaks, desperate and needy.

And the surge of power that rushes through Ben’s veins makes him dizzy. He’s already addicted to it, even without even seeing her naked yet: the way she says his name comes out of her mouth like a broken plea or a prayer.

He sees a car’s headlight glimpsing on the sidewalk and he knows it’s probably her Lyft. Reluctantly, he lets her go, giving her a last soft kiss, his thumb caressing her cheek slowly.

“Text me,” he reminds her.

She nods, walking slowly to the car, and then glancing back at him with wild, hungry eyes.

His promise from last year disappears from his mind completely. All of the reasons he listed earlier for not getting involved—it doesn’t even matter anymore to him right now. His mind is only filled with her: her face, her eyes, her lips, the way she sighed into his mouth, how close to making her come he was. He only wants to see her soon, to get her spread open in a bed and make her his for as long as she lets him.

It’s a dangerous thought, he knows, but one that he can’t avoid. He’s glad he already realized how fucked is, because there’s no point in fighting now.

He can only hope and wait for her to text.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> come scream with me about reylo and taylor swift on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/foIkIxre)! 🥰💕
> 
> P.s: if you've been in the reylo fandom for long, you know we run blockchains frequently. too many antis to deal with. so, if you ever try to follow me and find yourself blocked, FEAR NOT. you must have been caught in a blockchain and i'm deeply sorry about that. but i will happily unblock you if you leave me your @ in the comments. :)
> 
> created the iMessage texts with this [tutorial!](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22703617/chapters/54261724) :)


	2. i always seem to want more (this is not what you signed up for)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm honestly really grateful and happy about the comments I've got on this fic!!! Thank y'all for the support!! Here's the new chapter, I hope y'all like it and tell me your thoughts about it as well!! 🥰💕
> 
> And thank you [maddy](https://twitter.com/darthswift13), [meg](https://twitter.com/redbelles) and [mila](https://twitter.com/nocturnes) for helping me turn this mess into something readable. Y'all are angels and I love y'all so much 🥰💕

It takes Rey weeks to gather up the courage to text him. Not because she doesn’t want to, because she _does_ , it’s just… she’s thought about the way his soft lips kissed her and how he almost made her come that night so many times, that it scares her. It’s like it’s been imprinted on her mind, and the more she thinks about it, the more her heart thuds wildly inside her chest. She considers, for a moment, not texting him at all. It’s not like she _owes_ him anything, right? And it’s not like she’s ghosting him, either. Everyone does that: they meet someone for one night and they promise to call or text and they wind up not doing so. Besides, he’s a grown man. Rey can only imagine the amount of numbers he gets—the thought makes a twinge of jealousy lodge in her chest and she steadfastly ignores it—working there _and_ being the pub’s owner, and she’s a hundred percent sure she’s going to be just another one in his list.

It’s completely fine, not texting him.

And then, one night after she comes home from her new sitter gig, she passes out on the couch in front of the TV and dreams vividly about him taking her right there on the pub’s counter, his deep, beautiful voice telling her she’s a good girl, but she’s been bad, for taking so long to text him, so she needs to be punished. In the dream, he spanks her a few times, marking her ass in a pretty shade of red, refusing to fuck her until she’s learned her lesson and she cries out—every nerve in her body alight with pain and arousal, a heady mix that she _never_ thought she’d be _into_ —and begs him to fuck her, to fill her with his cock. He croaks out that only good girls get to have their cunts filled with his cock. Instead, he fucks her mouth, spilling wet and hot down her throat, then eats her out for hours, until she can no longer feel her legs and begs him to stop.

Rey wakes up with something heavy pressing on her chest. When she opens her eyes, Pancakes is looking down at her with his perpetually judging stare, as if he knows exactly what kind of naughty business she’s been up to. She sighs, wiping her sweaty forehead with her forearm and then running her hand on Pancakes’ fur, cocking her head to the side to pay attention to whatever is on the TV.

She doesn’t last long. Flashes of the dream keep replaying in her mind like a movie she didn’t even want to press play on, and it’s difficult to ignore the way she’s getting wetter by the second.

_Jesus fucking Christ_ , what the fuck is happening to her?

Pancakes moves to the armrest of her couch she snakes her clean hand down her body and into her shorts, finding wetness pooling in her entrance. She coats her fingers with it and skims them lightly up and down her labia. She closes her eyes and wills herself to not think about him, but it’s the first thing she sees under her eyelids: the two of them under that neon sign, making out in the street like teenagers, his hard cock grinding against her through their clothes and the way she felt so desperate to tear them off, desperate to feel him closer…

She rolls her fingers on her clit, teasingly at first. His voice rumbles in her head: _Be a good girl for me and don’t come. Wait for when I fill you with my cock, okay?_

She moans, increasing the pace of her fingers on her clit, already feeling the pressure building inside her—

_Wait for when I fill you—_

“No,” she protests. “ _Now_.”

She works her fingers relentlessly, playing with her cunt in the way she knows will get her off faster, and then—

“ _Ben_!”

Her chest heaves with labored breaths, warmth suffusing her cheeks. She can’t believe she just made herself come thinking of someone she met weeks ago while her cat is happily purring a few inches from her face. She shakes her head, brushing thoughts of Ben aside. She gets up off the couch and darts towards the bathroom, deciding a shower is exactly what she needs and ignoring the little voice inside of her that tells her that she’s only lying to herself.

🐱✨🐱

In the shower, Rey decided she’d mused long enough and finally made up her mind to text him. She knows she won’t rest until they’ve fucked; until she knows exactly what he meant when he asked her to wait for him to fill her with his cock. She needs to get him out of her system, to scratch this itch and move on with her life. She can’t waste any more time obsessing over a man. It’s just not like her.

But it’s late and Rey doubts she’d have any luck contacting him tonight. She should just go to sleep. But she stares at her phone, the name _Ben Solo_ staring back at her as if it has a life of its own and is mocking her for being such a coward. She opens iMessage and stares at their blank convo some more, biting her nails, wondering why it’s so hard to just fucking text him.

“Goddammit,” she curses, annoyed at herself.

She starts to type.

####  **Today** , 12:35 AM

Rey
    hi. it's rey

Ben
    Hey.

Rey waits and waits for him to say something else, but he doesn’t. It occurs to her that he might not remember her, and while that’s hurtful, she reasons that could be the reason why he’s not saying anything else.

Rey
    the girl from the pub.
    from a few weeks ago.
    Nirvana fan?
    not really, but...
    i was wearing a Nirvana t-shirt when i met you.
     and you gave me your number.

He reads her texts immediately, but doesn’t reply. The read receipt is there, as if it’s mocking her and telling how stupid she is. She’s filled with regret. If she didn’t give reason to her horniness, she wouldn’t feel humiliated right now. She has a good collection of vibrators, why does she need him, anyway—

Her phone pings with a new message, interrupting her inner rambling.

Ben
    I remember you.

It’s just three words. Three words that make her heartbeat quicken and she clutches her phone harder, mind fully awake.

Rey
    oh okay cool.

Glaring at her phone anxiously, once again Rey waits for the three dots that indicate he’s typing to appear, but they don’t. It suddenly occurs to her he might be upset over her taking weeks to text him, and only doing so in the middle of the night. He knows _why_ she’s looking for him now, but Rey wonders if he misread the situation. If he thinks she wanted more out of it besides a hook-up. She replays their moments inside her head, bit by bit, and doesn’t understand _how_. It’s when she’s about to be blunt and tell him exactly what she wants and expects from him that her phone buzzes again with another message.

Ben
    Can I call you?

Rey’s first instinct is to say no. She feels like text is more detached, and that’s exactly what she needs from him, from this. But then she remembers his voice whispering filth in her ear and before she can think it through, she replies:

Rey
    yes.

His contact appears on her phone screen and she picks it up on the first ring, clearing her throat before greeting him.

“Hi.”

“Hey,” he replies, his deep voice rumbling in the nicest way, making her toes curl. She hears a faint rustle of sheets and then he gets straight to the point, “Why didn’t you text? _”_

Rey guesses he’s not a man who likes to bullshit around. If she wasn’t so nervous, she’d appreciate that. However, admitting to someone she made out with once that he’s been on her mind since then is… insane, and definitely something that will make him think she’s looking for something she isn’t at the moment. So she lies, “I’ve been busy with college. And three part-time jobs.”

He hums, noncommittally. His tone tells her he doesn’t buy it, any of it. “And why now?”

Her voice is overly sweet when she offers, “Now I’m not so busy.”

A beat of silence stretches between them, and for a second Rey thinks he hung up on her. Then he declares, “I’m too tired to go out and fuck you right now, if that’s why you texted. I’d still like to, though, some other day. Hmm. Maybe tomorrow? I have the day off.”

Rey wonders if it’s possible for him to hear how fast her heart is beating. Her mouth is dry all of a sudden and she swallows thickly before replying, “Okay.”

“Good girl,” he praises and Rey squeezes her eyes shut, and for the second time in just a few hours, she plunges her hand under the sheets to the middle of her legs. She starts to stroke her clit and lets out an involuntary gasp. There’s no way he didn’t hear that. He calls, “Rey?”

Her voice is all high-pitched when she replies, “Yes?”

He breathes deeply in her ear and then she hears a muffled curse, as if he dropped the phone and picked it back up. Is he…? He mumbles, “What time should I be there _?”_

Rey works her fingers faster, getting wetter just by thinking that on the other side of the phone, he’s touching himself because of her, too. “Mmm. I’ll be here around 7.”

He grunts. The sound reverberates, sending a thrill of pleasure straight to her cunt. She bites the inside of her cheeks to prevent her from moaning out loud. “Send me your address tomorrow.”

She breathes out, “I will.”

“You can come now, sweetheart, _”_ he urges in a sweet, soft voice and the endearment almost makes her heart stop. She didn’t think he’d admit he knew what she was doing. “Just know it’ll feel better tomorrow, when I make you come on my cock.”

When her orgasm breaks, she lets out an inevitable curse, her thighs shaking and her breath coming out all ragged. She hears him grunt, too, on the other end of the line, and knows he came too. Because of her. He lets out a deep sigh of relief, satisfied with whatever happened.

The line is silent for a moment.

For some reason she can’t quite understand, she doesn’t really want to hang up. An inexplicable urge to stay with him on the phone until she falls asleep washes over her, and she shakes her head, willing the feeling away. She clears her throat and tells him, “Mmm. I’m gonna hang up, now. See you tomorrow, I guess.”

His tone is weird, different from how sweet he was with her a second ago when he retorts, “Yeah. See you tomorrow.”

Oh, well.

Rey guesses they both got what they wanted.

She doesn’t know why she doesn’t feel satisfied anymore, a dreadful feeling seizing her chest. She hangs up before she has the chance to say something stupid and humiliate herself.

Tossing around in her bed, it’s hours later when she finally dozes off to sleep, falling into dreams of his touch and his deep voice whispering sweet nothings against her skin.

🐱✨🐱

A series of unfortunate events happen on the next day— _because of fucking course—_ preventing Rey from coming home early. Ben is supposed to get there in just thirty minutes and she feels herself starting to spiral, worried about the state of her small apartment. She’s not sure there’ll be enough time for her to fix the mess she’s made over the last few weeks. She just hasn’t had time to clean her place. Honestly, she knows she shouldn’t feel self-conscious about it; it’s just a man coming there to have sex, and this has happened so many times already. Besides, something tells her he won’t care about how small and messy her apartment is after he sees her naked. But there’s a tiny part of Rey that wants to impress him, for reasons she can’t quite pinpoint.

She scans the living room, assessing her surroundings. There are clothes everywhere, scattered on the floor, atop of the coffee table and the couch, even next to the various types of plants she loves: a prickly pear, a ponytail palm, a fiddle leaf fig, and a swiss cheese plant, the leaves going from vivid green to almost yellow to design the room’s own small forest. A few of her textbooks are piled up on the wooden coffee table, and a mug she’s sure she used to drink tea four days ago is still there, resting atop on a cup holder. Pancakes lays on top of the couch, looking at her rambling around the room, licking his paws without a care in the world.

Rey acts fast, collecting every single piece of dispersed clothing first, stacking them up on her shoulders and hauling them to her bedroom. She drops them inside the hamper in the corner and spins around to check what she needs to organize in her bedroom. There are other textbooks she wound up reading until late last night on her bed, and a few more clothes that she quickly throws onto the hamper. She grabs the textbooks and puts them down on the floor next to the swiss cheese plant. She figures the sheets could do with some changing, but there’s no time. Rey sees her reflection on the tall mirror stuck to the wall close to the hamper and almost groans at her appearance: she’s wearing black leggings and a baggy gray sweatshirt, and her hair is all greasy and up in a bun. She should’ve washed it yesterday, but she was so tired after studying for hours…

She contemplates taking a quick shower, but one look at the clock that faces her bed tells her she doesn’t have enough time. Ben would probably arrive when she was in the bathroom and she wouldn’t hear the doorbell ring. He could think she wasn’t there and leave and—

The doorbell rings, interrupting her anxious train of thought. 7 p.m. on the dot.

Rey resists the urge to sprint to the door. She inhales deeply, calming herself down. She leaves the room in quick strides, stopping by the door and taking another deep breath before she opens it.

Rey thinks her mind is playing tricks on her, because standing there in front of her door wearing all black—black tee, black jeans and black boots—, his hair still damp from the shower, Ben seems bigger and taller than she remembers him being. He’s all broad shoulders, strong arms, and hard muscles. He could lift her up without a fuss, she’s such a tiny thing compared to him. She wonders if his cock is as big as he is. The thought makes her mouth water. She raises her head and gazes up at him. There’s something hungry in his gaze, as his eyes rake her body up and down. She thinks of making a joke about how she didn’t have the time to clean her place and that she definitely needs a shower before they do anything, but the words die in her throat as he keeps her trapped in his fiery stare.

And then—

Ben _lunges_ forward and Rey yelps as his arms wrap around her middle, hoisting her up and she traps her legs around his waist. He spares her one last glance before slanting his lips over hers. Rey gasps into his mouth, and then opens hers immediately, letting his tongue push inside, sliding against hers slowly. She licks into his mouth, savoring his grunts and sighs and the way he rolls his hips against hers. He kisses her like no one’s ever kissed her before. She doesn’t know how to describe it, either, but there’s a certain edge to the way his lips slide on hers, a certain desperation. A fleeting thought crosses Rey’s mind: he kisses her like he’s missed her, even though it’s only been weeks, even though this is only the second time they’re seeing each other. Her heart crashes against her ribs and echoes in her head, and she feels some kind of longing—so deep but not at all foreign to her, something that she fought to keep hidden in the deepest places of her soul—that wedges in her mind and heart before she even has the change to fight it. She feels a lump in her throat and the burn of tears threatening to drip out of her eyes.

Rey hates it. She’s weirded out by her own reaction and she feels dread creeping up in her mind, anxiety building up quickly. She doesn’t want Ben to look at her right now.

Ben breaks the kiss all of a sudden, his head tilting to the side. Rey seizes the opportunity to hide her face in his neck, nibbling on his jaw, just to busy her mind with something.

“Rey.”

“Mmm.”

“You have a cat,” he points out.

Rey hoists her head up, arms still wrapped around his neck to look at Pancakes. He’s laying down on the couch and watching them.

“Oh yeah, that’s Pancakes,” Rey confirms. She looks back at Ben. He doesn’t even falter on his hold of her. “Why? Are you allergic?”

“Nope. He’s cute.”

“Don’t be fooled by him. He’s a fierce beast.”

“Mmm.” He leans in to nip at her jaw. “Why do I think you two are meant for each other?”

She scoffs. “Are you really calling me a beast?”

“No,” he replies. He cradles her neck, forcing her to stare at him. “Not the beast part, at least. Just that you’re fierce.”

Rey blinks and Ben keeps her gaze steady. She swallows thickly, taken off guard by the unfamiliar feeling of having words caught in her throat but no ability to spew them aloud.

After a beat, he murmurs in a low voice, “Rey. Bedroom?”

“Yes,” she nods. “Please, _sir_.”

He groans, muttering _Jesus fucking Christ, you’re killing me_ before slanting her mouth over hers again and carrying her to the bedroom.

🐱✨🐱

He drops her gently on the bed, hovering over her, their mouths still connected. She really wants to be fucked, but Rey finds she wouldn’t mind a bit if the only thing they did was make out. He’s such a great kisser. She can’t get enough of the wonderful, filthy things his tongue keeps doing inside her mouth.

His big hands drift over her body, forging their way to her leggings, and without ceremony he pushes them along with her knickers down her legs, hurling them somewhere across her room. She gasps when two of his fingers slip inside her cunt, his thumb rolling circles around her clit teasingly. He chuckles against her neck.

“Such a _tight_ pussy,” he murmurs dazedly, his voice eliciting delicious ripples of pleasure straight to her cunt. “And so _wet_ for me already.”

He pushes his fingers deeper, hitting a soft spot inside her that makes her arch her back. He grins mischievously. “See? We could’ve been doing _this_ for weeks, but you decided not to text me.”

Rey remembers the dream she’s had with him. How he punished her because she didn’t text and refused to fuck her until she begged. She peers up at him, his brows furrowed in concentration as he works to get her off, and she wonders if she should tell him about her dream.

Is it their age difference, that makes her act like this? Is it something deeper that needs to be analyzed about her childhood? She doesn’t care, not at the moment. And by the way he’s acting right now, neither does he. It actually seems like something he’s maybe into, and she wants to try.

She murmurs thickly, “I’m sorry, I’ve been a bad girl.”

He withdraws his fingers and stares at her. His hair falls around his face like a curtain and there’s a dangerous glint in his eyes. His chest heaves with a long breath before he inquires, eyes wild and dark, “And do you think bad girls deserve to come, Rey?”

She shakes her head, “No.”

“That’s right,” he agrees. His fingers skims lightly over her labia and he grumbles, “I don’t think I should keep going. You don’t deserve to come.”

It’s an old, wild instinct that surges inside her and forces her to mumble her next words. “No, Ben, _please_ , I’ll be good, I promise—”

He licks his bottom lip, his other hand darting up to her hair, untying her bun, letting her hair spread like a halo on the bedsheets. “Say ‘please, sir, make me come’ and I’ll think about it, sweetheart.”

Rey reaches up and cradles his face between her hands, crashing her lips onto his. She licks into his mouth and he grunts, kissing her back furiously and desperately, biting her bottom lip a bit too forcefully. She moans, breaks the kiss and utters shakily, “Please, _sir_ , make me come, I’ve been _dreaming_ about your lips and your cock, _please sir, oh please—_ ”

Ben growls, a roaring sound that comes all the way from his chest, and pulls her into his lap. He claims her mouth into a searing kiss, only separating their lips to lift her sweatshirt over her head, hungry eyes straying to her tits before leaning down to fit one into his mouth, sucking greedily on her nipple while he fondles the other, rolling its nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Rey cries out at his assault, clutching at his head. He’s still lapping at her tit when his hand travels down to her cunt, two fingers pushing deep inside, curving them slightly, and Rey squeezes her eyes shut again, allowing herself to be helpless to the sensations, and she swears she sees stars exploding behind her eyelids.

He pulls his mouth off her with a resounding _pop_ , her nipple covered with his spit. “Gonna make you come so good, sweetheart, because you’re a good girl, aren’t you?” He rasps out, working his fingers faster.

She’s close, the pressure building deep down her belly, she just needs—

He continues praising her, achingly soft, “Asking me so nicely. Behaving so well. So sweet, my _good, good girl_ ,” he utters, dropping a soft kiss on her temple.

Rey doesn’t know what throws her over the edge. If it’s the last thrust of his fingers in her cunt or the way he speaks sweetly to her and praises her, calling her _his_ good girl, but she comes so hard she feels her entire body shuddering atop him. He squeezes her closer, drops soft kisses all over her face, his lips trailing down to her jaw, neck, collarbone, murmuring what good, perfect girl she is, how she looks so beautiful when she comes, all while he continues pumping his fingers inside her, working her through the aftershocks. His words nestle their way inside her heart, and her chest swells at the intensity of it all: his words, his touch, her orgasm.

And he hasn’t even fucked her yet.

She feels overwhelmed, close to tears, and she doesn’t know _why_ , but he soothes her with his embrace, his hands coming up to her spine, caressing her back and the nape of her neck, fingers massaging her scalp slowly as she burrows further into him, soaking in the feeling of safety he’s giving her at the moment. She knows it’s just temporary, but at this point, she couldn’t care less. She only cares about how safe she feels with his arms surrounding her pliant, sated body.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> come scream with me about reylo and taylor swift on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/foIkIxre)! 🥰💕
> 
> P.s: if you've been in the reylo fandom for long, you know we run blockchains frequently. too many antis to deal with. so, if you ever try to follow me and find yourself blocked, FEAR NOT. you must have been caught in a blockchain and i'm deeply sorry about that. but i will happily unblock you if you leave me your @ in the comments. :)


	3. we come alive in the evening (our bodies are tossed and turned, tangled up in it)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey rats! I'm so happy yall are enjoying this story! 🥰 It makes me relieved to see that I haven't spent a month writing something that sucks lol Anyway, this is the last chapter of the year, because I'm going to my mom's for the holidays, so I'll be seeing y'all again on the first week of January, but please let me know what you think of this chapter! Comments really make me smile! :) I hope yall have a merry Christmas and a happy New Year and that yall and your family stay safe and healthy, so we can start 2021 in our best shape, waiting for better things! 🥰💕
> 
> And thank you [maddy](https://twitter.com/darthswift13), [meg](https://twitter.com/redbelles) and [mila](https://twitter.com/nocturnes) for helping me turn this mess into something readable. Y'all are angels and I love y'all so much 🥰💕

Laying side by side on Rey's bed, Ben waits for her to come down off her high. He adjusts himself in his tight jeans and lets out a huff. He’s hard as a rock, anxious for relief, desperate to bury his cock in that small, tight cunt, but for some reason, it seems he can't be selfish around Rey. It's not a surprise to him, that she's the one with all the power in this. Especially since it took weeks for her to text and he told himself to let it go and forget all about her, but the moment she asked him to come, he couldn't help but say _yes_.

It’s too early to say for sure, but he has a hunch that it will be extremely difficult in the future, saying no to Rey. He concludes he can't, not even if he tries.

Ben seizes the opportunity to glance around at her room, taking notice of every single thing that could tell more about Rey—and maybe offer some kind of explanation as to what it is about her that’s made him think about her non-stop. He glimpses her textbooks on the floor next to a plant, a few framed posters with abstract paintings stuck on the wall, a string of light-bulbs hung in the left corner of her bedroom, illuminating that side of the room and the single plant she has there in ambient light. He snaps his head back to her, and remembers how many times he's imagined how she’d look naked.

He imagined what the exact kind of shade her nipples would be—they’re a pretty shade of dusky pink. He wondered if the constellation of freckles on her cheek would be sprinkled all over her body, too—and they are. Her shoulders, collarbones, her chest… they're all covered with freckles. He wants to lick them one by one.

In spite of all the times he thought of how beautiful she’d be naked, he couldn't have prepared himself for how her beauty almost takes his breath away. The moonlight brightens the room, the light seeping through the skylight on the ceiling, and it reflects on Rey’s lithe, but strong, tanned body: her pert little tits that fit right into his mouth; her defined abs; her long, toned legs, the patch of curls in the vee of her thighs.

He wants to _breathe_ her in; to explore every inch of her skin and find out what draws the most lascivious moans out of her little mouth. He wants to _devour_ her whole; to show her how high he can take her, each and every time they're skin to skin, each and every time he's buried deep inside her cunt, each and every time how it becomes more _impossible_ to know where he ends and where she begins.

He wants it all and he hasn't _even_ fucked her yet.

Ben hopes to god this isn't just a one-time thing, because he’s not sure it would be enough for him.

Rey stirs in his arms, gazing up at him with apprehension in her eyes. “Sorry,” she mutters. “I’m not usually… _clingy_ like this.”

“It’s okay to feel emotional and want to be taken care of and held after, especially in a dynamic like this, even if what we did was pretty light,” he tells her softly. “If this is something you want to keep doing, I’m into it.”

She snorts. “What? Me calling you _sir_ turns you on?”

“I believe it turns me on just as much as it turns you on, calling me that.”

Her cheeks redden and Ben can’t help but smirk.

Rey admits, “Yeah. I think it’s hot. But I am not… I don’t want to do that all the time.” And then, grimacing, as if she’s said something she shouldn’t, she tilts her head to the side, incapable of looking into his eyes. She clears her throat. “Hey, um… before we go any further, I think I should be honest and let you know I’m not exactly looking for a relationship right now.”

It feels like someone just threw a bucket of ice-cold water on his head, and just like that, Ben’s entire body goes rigid beside hers. He knows she notices the change in his body language, and she finally snaps her gaze back to him. There’s something like fear in her eyes and for a moment he wonders if she thinks he’s a threat to her. He tries to soften his expression to make her relax, but she goes on rambling, “I just have too much on my plate right now. My last relationship just showed me I should focus on getting my degree first, and trying to find a good job and—”

“What do you study?”

Ben can tell his question surprises her, as if no one ever cared about really knowing her, what she wants to do in life. She frowns and blinks, muttering slowly, “Social work.”

He nods. “Interesting.”

“Anyway, as I was saying—”

It was too much for him to think that someone so young like Rey— _brilliant, witty, and funny_ —would want anything to do with him. He doesn’t know what he was thinking, hoping it wasn’t just a one-time thing, that this could mean for her the same thing that it means for him.

That he crossed her mind just as much as she crossed his, in the past few weeks.

Even then, the right thing to do would be to say _no_ , to stand up and leave, but he _can’t_ deny her. He’s not strong enough to do so. And he can’t even allow her to continue on her list of reasons they can’t have more than sex, because it hurts him. It should shock him, because it hasn’t been long since they met, but she’s under his skin and he can’t wash her away.

He interrupts her.

“You don’t want a relationship,” he respectfully agrees. “Got it.”

He pays close attention to her lovely face and for a split second, a slight change so small and infinitesimal he wouldn’t notice if he wasn’t staring closely happens. And then it fades away from her expression and she gives him a wide smile, one that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. It tugs at him—why the sudden change on her face, but then again, he thinks he can’t really be partial to her anymore, and stores his thoughts and his feelings away, as if they never even existed.

Ben stands up and places his wallet, phone and car keys on her bedside table. He strips in front of her in record time, and smirks when he realizes her eyes are following his every move, focusing on each inch of skin he reveals to her. He tugs his boxers down his hips, his cock springing free, hard and flushed red, pointing towards hers, the tip of his cockhead beading precum. Rey shamelessly stares at it and then jerks her gaze up to his, a flush spreading across her cheeks at being caught. At least he can be one hundred percent sure she wants _this—_ sex with him—as much as he does. This, he can have. It soothes the sting of not being able to have more than her body. At least for now.

“Okay,” Rey starts, pink tongue darting to lick her lips, her gaze focused on his cock. “Don’t let it go to your head, but I don’t think… it’ll _fit_. You’re too damn _big_.”

Ben grabs his wallet and takes one condom out. He can’t help the surge of pride that swells inside his chest or the obnoxious smirk that tugs at his lips. She rolls her eyes and he chuckles. He rolls the condom on his cock and kneels on the bed.

“I’ll make sure it fits, sweetheart.”

He climbs up the bed, hovering over her, his knees pushing her legs apart so he can settle between them. He lowers his head, giving her a chaste kiss before hiking her right leg up and pushing the tip of his cock inside her cunt. She gasps, wide eyes staring at him, nails digging into his arms. “Shh,” he soothes. His thumb presses on her clit a few times, feeling her getting wetter. “Relax, sweetheart. I’ll be gentle.”

Her chest heaves and she looks down at where they’re joined, biting her lip. She nods for him to keep going.

Ben thrusts up a bit more, sustaining his weight on his arms so as not to crush her. Rey _keens_ underneath him, “Oh _fuck, sweet baby Jesus_ , you’re gonna split me in two—”

Ben shakes his head, kissing her temple. “No, I won’t,” he promises. He lowers his head to catch a nipple and lick it into his mouth. Then murmurs against the valley between her tits, “I’ll fill you up real good, sweetheart, gonna make you come so _hard_. Just relax, _please_ , and let me show you,” he finishes in a strained voice.

It’s difficult for him not to slide all the way in, bury himself deep inside her _tight, little_ cunt. But he wants it to be memorable for her; somehow, in his mind, showing her he can be a good fuck is like proving his worth to her. If he’s good enough, maybe she’ll let him see her again.

“ _I need, I need_ —” she sobs, nails marking indents on his arm.

“What? What do you need, Rey?”

“Kiss me,” she whispers hoarsely.

He shoves his entire length into her in one thrust and Rey lets out something between a gasp and a moan. Ben slants his mouth over hers, kissing her fiercely while he’s sheathed fully inside her. She winds her hands around his neck, her legs wrapping around his hips, her moans and his sighs mixing inside their mouths, tongues brushing against each other over and over again. He breaks the kiss and whispers against her jaw, “I waited so much for you to text. Thought of fucking you for weeks. _Dreamed_ of it.”

“ _Oh_ , Ben, _please—_ ” she pleads, her accent getting thicker by the second, but he doesn’t let her go on, interrupting her with a kiss.

His lips find hers again and he nibbles on her bottom lip. “You’re a _fucking dream_ , you know that?” he growls, moving forward just a bit, realizing there’s no more room inside her. “I told you it would fit, sweetheart. _Jesus_. The _tightest little_ pussy. Gonna drive me _fucking mad_.”

“Ben, _please, please_ , move, I need _more_ —” she arches her back, canting her hips in a hopeless bid to make him move.

“I know what you need,” he tells her, dropping a kiss to her forehead. “Gonna give you what you need, sweetheart.”

He doesn’t pull out completely, swirling his hips against hers slowly, almost mechanically. It’s difficult for him, to be honest, not to rut into her earnestly, to make her scream with the force of thrusts.

But he wants it to last, and _oh_ , he wants to feel her tight cunt clenching around him, coming on his cock. He repeats his movements a few times, but then Rey gets impatient, a huff coming out of her mouth, her warm breath tickling the side of his neck, and starts meeting his thrusts with a roll of her hips.

He halts for a moment, the delicious friction of their bodies moving against each other tightening his balls. God, he’s _close_. He takes a deep breath and squeezes his eyes shut, burying his face in the crook of her neck, biting hard on the juncture where it meets her shoulder. She cries out, her nails digging sharply into his back, and the sting spurs him on. He picks up the pace, then, thrusting furiously into her, tilting his head to the side to catch her mouth in a filthy kiss.

She’s writhing under him, broken little sounds coming out of her throat that makes him groan. He shifts his hips ever so slightly, finding that spot he found earlier with his fingers and making her _scream_. He feels triumphant, rutting into that one spot inside of her again and again, as she looks up at him with dazed, wild eyes.

“You’re gonna come, aren’t you?” he asks, voice tinged with satisfaction. “You’re gonna be a _good girl_ and come on my cock, right, Rey?”

He pounds into her for one last time and thumbs at her clit and then he _feels_ it—her cunt clenching hard around him, her thighs shaking around his hips, the broken, gasping cry coming out of her throat. He fucks her through her high, her body all limp and pliant, dotting kisses on her face, whispering _beautiful, perfect, fucking dream_ over and over again. Now that he’s made her come, he’s way over his head, out of his mind, not even realizing what he’s muttering to Rey because he’s almost there, and then—

“ _Please_ come, sir,” she whispers, canting her hips into his. “I wanna feel you come, too.”

He shoves into her in a hard stroke, burying himself to the hilt and grunting against her neck, a point in his lower abdomen tightening up and then he comes, chills wracking over his body, his breath stopping for a second, each spurt causing delicious, shuddering aftershocks to stutter his hips before he collapses on top of her.

Ben waits a moment for his breath to get back to normal, hand under Rey’s neck, placing soft kisses on her lips before he slips out of her and rolls to the side. He rises up, taking off the condom and grabbing his boxers off the floor and tilts his head to Rey. “Bathroom?”

She gazes up at him, stretching her arms on the bed and letting out a soft yawn before replying, “Next door on the left.”

He nods. “Be right back.”

“’Kay,” she replies.

## 🐱✨🐱

Rey stretches out some more after Ben leaves for the bathroom, noticing she’s deliciously sore between her thighs. She chuckles, thinking about how she really went through on following Finn’s advice, getting dicked down by the biggest cock she’s ever seen. She wonders if they can go again, before he leaves. She rolls on the bed and grabs his wallet on the bedside table, opening it and finding a few more condoms.

That’s the exact moment Ben chooses to get back to the room.

“What are you doing?” he asks, his deep voice echoing in the room.

Rey starts. “I promise I’m not trying to rob you, I was just checking-” She angles her head back at him and he’s wearing his boxers again, stopping at his arms once she notices what he’s holding. To be more exact, _who_ he’s holding. “What are _you_ doing?”

Pancakes is comfortably lying on his arms, licking his paws. Ben rubs his head leisurely, a soft smile on his face whilst her cat purrs happily, stretching his paws and nuzzling into Ben’s chest, like the fucking traitor he is. Rey doesn’t know what’s more absurd: her anti-social cat allowing someone that isn’t her to hold him in their arms or the stupid, pleased smile plastered on Ben’s face. A smile that almost melts her to the spot, a smile that warms her chest and makes her heart thud so hard against her ribs that she has to take a deep breath just to center herself again.

“I think he likes me,” Ben tells her, voice tinged with amusement. “You’re a good boy,” he coos, fingers rubbing Pancakes’s head affectionately. He chirps loudly, as if he's approving of Ben’s praise.

Coming to think of it, Rey can totally relate to that. She scoffs. “Well, that’s good,” she says.

His head snaps back to find her gaze. “Is it?”

“Yeah, since you’ll be coming here often,” she replies.

“Am I?” he queries, eyes darkening as he rakes them over her naked body again. She can’t even hide the blush that spreads on her cheeks and chest, at being the object of his heavy, hungry gaze.

Flashes of the two of them come into her mind; how he whispered sweet words into her body and how it seems that they’ve made their way under her skin; how his body molded into hers perfectly, how he reached that place deep inside her she hardly finds alone.

She wants _more_. _Now_. _Tomorrow_.

And the day _after_ tomorrow.

Tamping down her excitement and own expectations, she replies nonchalantly, “I mean, if you want to.” She shrugs, not letting him see how much she wants him to say that _yes_ , he wants it, too, just as much as she does. “We could… do it again. And regularly.”

He looks at her with a smirk tugging at his lips, and because she’s extremely averse to making him think she’s asking for _more_ than sex, she adds, “Whenever we’re not busy.”

Ben gently drops Pancakes off his arms and strides over the bed, surging up quickly and climbing on top of her. “You’re not busy now.”

She shakes her head, barely recognizing the hoarseness in her voice, “No, I am not.”

“That’s why you were searching up my wallet?” He lowers his head to her jaw, dragging his teeth up to her earlobe and biting her there. “You want to go again?”

“You have three more condoms,” she replies in a shaky voice. It’s hard to concentrate when his lips are… doing _that_. She lifts her shoulders in a shrug. “Figured we could.”

Ben chuckles and drags his lips up to hers. He kisses her unhurriedly, like he’s savoring her, licking into her mouth and swallowing every moan he draws out of her. He breaks the kiss and grins wickedly. “ _Mmm_. Are you sure you can take my cock in this _tight_ little pussy three more times?”

She lets her head loll back and scoffs, swatting his chest. “Excuse me. Can _you_ get your cock up three more times is the right question.”

“Oh, Rey,” he shakes his head, the same wicked grin on his lips, eyes blazing with a dark hungriness. “You shouldn’t have said that.” She _gulps_ , already feeling herself getting wetter again. He dips to her neck and whispers a warning into her ear. “I’m gonna _fucking_ wear you out,” he promises in a deep voice, with a roll of his hips against her bare core. His voice drips with a warning, something _dangerous_ on the surface, and she just wants to drown herself in it. She moans loudly. “Gonna make you feel my cock on your tight pussy for _days_. You’re gonna be thinking about me fucking you so _hard_ you won’t be able to walk straight,” he finishes, his mouth slanting over hers in a bruising kiss.

After he breaks the kiss for air, she follows his mouth with her own and nibbles on his bottom lip before she daringly mumbles, “Game on, then, _sir._ You have all night.”

He grunts at her words, claiming her lips again, and she feels his cock getting hard against her stomach, and _oh,_ there's nothing but euphoria flowing in her veins at the thought of spending the rest of the night with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> come scream with me about reylo and taylor swift on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/foIkIxre)! 🥰💕
> 
> P.s: if you've been in the reylo fandom for long, you know we run blockchains frequently. too many antis to deal with. so, if you ever try to follow me and find yourself blocked, FEAR NOT. you must have been caught in a blockchain and i'm deeply sorry about that. but i will happily unblock you if you leave me your @ in the comments. :)


	4. just say you'll stay the night (i need you 'till the morning light)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Happy New Year!!! Firstly, I am sorry I wasn't able to update like I said I would, on the first week of January. Things got messy irl and I had to sort a few things out, but I am back for good and hopefully with weekly updates until the end of this fic!! Secondly, I had to update the chapter count because I am still finishing the last chapter and editing it, and I realized it would become a monster if I didn't split it in two. So, yay, another chapter?? Anyway, thank y'all so much for the support and for reading this fic, every time I get one comment about it I get the biggest boost of serotonin!!! I'm not joking!!! Hope y'all will let me know what you think of this chapter as well 🥰💕
> 
> And thank you [maddy](https://twitter.com/darthswift13), [meg](https://twitter.com/redbelles) and [mila](https://twitter.com/nocturnes) for helping me turn this mess into something readable. Y'all are angels and I love y'all so much 🥰💕
> 
> The lovely [Jess](https://twitter.com/jessjuliana27) commissioned me to make a new moodboard for my fic and I was so touched. This is the result. <3
> 
> **WARNING** : This chapter contains a scene of mild dub-con somnophilia after the third line break. If it makes you uncomfortable, you can pick up when this paragraph " _For a moment_..." starts.

In the following weeks, Rey has an incredible, astounding, mind-blowing amount of sex. Every moment she's not working or studying, she's spending with Ben—he’s become quite acquainted with every single inch of her body and he’s getting to be exceptionally good at reading her cues and giving her exactly what she needs exactly when she needs it. He knows every inch of her tiny apartment, every spot where he’s bent her over and fucked her so hard that she blacked out a little bit after she came.

And, of course, he's become quite attached to her cat. It's annoying how much they like each other. Whenever Ben comes over, he spends a good twenty minutes playing with Pancakes before finally turning his attention back to her, kissing her senseless and carrying her to the bedroom.

The afternoon light coming through the skylight bathes his pale skin as his mouth burns against her cunt, his tongue licking her in long stripes and then sucking at her clit. She's doing her best to concentrate on sucking his cock without choking instead of how close she is to her third orgasm of the afternoon and how she hasn't made him come yet, when she hears Pancakes’ meowing, his fuzzy paws waddling into the room.

Ben stops licking her, moving his hips to the side a bit, causing his cock to slip out of her mouth.

“Wh—?! Why did you _stooop_ ,” she protests, whining.

“Sorry, can't do anything to you when he's looking at us like _that_ ,” he retorts, his eyes moving to where Pancakes is standing in her room, staring at them with his judgy eyes.

Rey rolls her eyes and stands up. She walks to where Pancakes is and gently coaxes him out of the room. “Bye, Pancakes, your buddy doesn’t want you here.”

Ben scoffs. “ _Don’t_ say that, he’s going to think—”

Rey turns around and checks her watch, ignoring his protest. She warns him, “I have fifteen minutes until my shift at the community center starts.”

Ben gazes at her naked body hungrily, as if his mouth wasn’t _just_ doing filthy things to her just now. It’s something that bewilders her, to be honest—how he’s always giving her these hungry, earnest looks and she doesn’t quite know what to make of it.

“Come back here, let me make you come again.”

Rey climbs up the bed and gets back to the spot she was before, her head resting at his thigh. “I already came twice… and that’s why I can’t focus on making _you_ come.”

“Are you complaining?” he asks, an amused glint in his eyes.

“ _Never_ ,” she vows fervently.

She goes back to her task, licking the tip of his cock, swirling her tongue around its head and then the underside of it before she slips it into her mouth, going up his length as far as she can without gagging. She squeezes her eyes shut and focuses on the velvety feeling of his cock in her mouth, hollowing out her cheeks and bobbing her head up and down, finding the rhythm he likes the most by the way he groans into her cunt. It’s difficult not to react to the way his tongue greedily sucks her clit, drawing a moan out of her that she can’t voice because he’s all the way inside her mouth. She fondles his balls with one hand while she strokes the base of his shaft in the other, feeling him twitching in her mouth. Just from the way he stops working his mouth on her, murmuring expletives when she does something that makes him lose his control, she knows he’s close. He’s always been responsive in bed—he doesn’t ever stop telling if something she does pleases him—but the dizzying power that flows in her veins while she’s stuffed full of his large, thick cock makes her want to blow his mind, makes her want to go even further. Breathing through her nose, she sucks him even _harder_ , going further, and his hips buck against her mouth, his cock hitting the back of her throat.

He lifts his mouth off her cunt and grunts, “Oh _JesusfuckingChrist_ , Rey, I’m gonna— _fuck—_ ”

She pulls him out of her mouth and does it again, the same rhythm, and then suddenly, without warning, she feels it—the first spurt of his wet, warm come down her throat. She greedily swallows, and then she pulls his cock out of her mouth again, another spurt landing on the corner of her mouth while she readjusts so the rest lands on her tits. She heaves out a long breath, lapping her tongue at the corner of her mouth and licking his come there, and she definitely feels an uncomfortable scratch at her throat, but otherwise, she’s feeling fucking awesome for having wrecked him so thoroughly.

Ben exhales a shaky breath and then surges up, a wild, stunned glint in his eyes. He seems mystified by her. “What a fucking sight you are,” he rasps out. He lowers his head and kisses her. Then mumbles into the kiss, his deep, hoarse voice eliciting ripples of pleasure that go straight to her cunt. “Wanna make you sit on my cock while I watch your _pretty little tits_ bounce, all covered with my come. My _dirty_ girl.”

Rey moans, incapable of not seeing the picture in her head, incapable of not losing her mind to his filthy words. Still, she gives voice to reason, “I don’t have the time.”

“Can I try to convince you?” he pleads, softly, kissing his way from her mouth to her jaw, sucking bruises into her neck.

“Ben…” she warns in a weak voice.

“It’s gonna be quick…” he promises.

Rey huffs, willing herself not to close her eyes and surrender to his wicked lips. To him. “It’s _never_ quick with you.”

“Thank god for that,” he jokes.

Rey laughs and swats his chest. She tilts her head and already finds him looking at her, a smile blooming on his lips, his whiskey brown eyes glinting with something she can’t identify, his dark raven hair falling like a curtain around their faces.

He kisses her once again, a soft kiss that makes her toes curl in a completely different way than when he makes her come. Her _yes_ is whispered against his lips before she can even realize the word is out of her mouth. She feels his wide smile across her lips when he continues to kiss and kiss her, and damn, did she even stand a chance of saying _no_?

She can hardly resist him.

That afternoon, Rey arrives at her job almost an hour later than when she was supposed to be there, with a soreness between her legs, hickeys spread all over her tits and thighs, and a smile that she can’t fight off, no matter how hard she tries.

🐱✨🐱

After a night of live games in the pub, Ben is in the middle of cleaning up the mess with Rose and Tallie when he feels his phone buzzing inside his jeans pocket. It’s late, way past two a.m., and he can’t think of anyone who would be calling him so late. He fishes his phone out of the pocket of his jeans and his heartbeat quickens when he sees it’s Rey who’s calling. He’s a bit surprised, too, because she hardly calls him, always asking if he’s available through text, and she never texts him past one a.m.

It’s been two weeks since he last saw her on that afternoon at her place, where she complained about him making her show up to work late, rolling her eyes at him, but unable to hide her smile. It’s not a surprise to him, however, that he sees her smile in his mind so often. He hardly thinks of anything else that isn’t related to Rey, whether it’s her stunning, dazzling smile, her brilliant mind or, more crudely, her amazing ass. He knew it would happen when he agreed to their little arrangement: he would soon get attached and start pining after someone who isn’t in sync with him, who isn’t after the same things he wants. He doesn’t know exactly _what_ he wants, either, but he knows for sure there isn’t anything he wouldn’t want with Rey. Lately, she’s all he thinks about, and it takes all of his willpower to not just sit around by his phone, waiting for her to be available and text him, like he’s some kind of horny teenager.

He accepts the call and drags his phone to his ear. “Hi, Rey.”

“Hey, I’m sorry to be calling so late,” she tells him promptly in lieu of a greeting.

He can tell by the tone of her voice that she’s anxious. He wonders if something has happened to her.

“It’s okay,” he tells her, trying to sound calm and not let his worries seep through. He doesn’t want to stress her out any more than she probably already is. “What’s up?”

She clears her throat before explaining in a clipped tone, “I was waitressing for the VIP section of a new club that opened today and my ride bailed on me.” He hums intently, waiting for her to go on. “ _I_ ’m really sorry to ask this, Ben, but they wired me the payment and it won’t be in my account until after three business days and I don’t have anything on me…” She takes a deep breath. “Could you—um, give me a ride, please?”

Ben darts his eyes across the room, checking to see if Rose and Tallie are almost done. He wants to go, but he can’t exactly leave them to close the place alone. Tallie rides a bike and leaves as soon as she’s done with her work, but Rose has to wait for Armie to pick her up. He’s musing to himself what to tell Rey when she continues, in a low voice:

“I’m really sorry to be asking this,” she murmurs. It feels like it’s hurting her pride, asking him for a favor that doesn’t involve anything they can do in between the four walls of her bedroom. “I can definitely make it up to you, though.” Here, her voice gets even lower, her next words sending blood straight to his cock at the visual images it brings up on his mind, “I can try to swallow your cock down my throat again. I know you liked it, on that afternoon.”

Still, despite his traitorous cock, the implication of her words whirl around his mind. It’s a jab at his heart, that she thinks he’d only help her if she offered a sexual favor in return. But then again, isn’t this exactly what they are? Two people who barely know each other engaging in a purely, strictly sexual relationship. Ben is always letting his feelings get the best of him; it has always been like this. He straightens his posture and tries to joke, “I’m listening.”

She scoffs on the other end and he can’t help but think that he did something wrong. But she continues, in a firm, clipped tone, “ _Cool_.” A deep breath, and then: “Should I text you the address?”

“Yeah,” he replies. “I’ll be there in 20.”

“’Kay, thanks,” she utters quickly and hangs up.

🐱✨🐱

Rey has always hated being a broke college student, but she’s never hated it more than she does right now, on a ride to her place with Ben. She’s so mad at Kaydel for bailing on her that she’s cursed her for the next three generations in her mind, and she still thinks it isn’t enough. That’s exactly what she never wanted to do when she started this arrangement with him: seeing him outside of her bedroom, asking him for favors and transforming their strictly sexual relationship into something more tangible, more real. She guesses that by the way he hesitated when she asked that he didn’t want to be there, that he only changed his mind when she offered something sexual in return, and she can’t will away the stupid ache she feels inside her chest, at the realization that it’s all he ever wants from her, anyway.

(Not that she wants more from him, of course, because she _doesn’t_. Seriously, she doesn’t.)

It’s not a long drive from the club where she was waitressing to her place, and by the time he stops his car on the sidewalk of the building she lives, she lets out a heavy exhale of pure relief. She steps out of his car and he does the same, opening the trunk and grabbing her travel military duffel bag that she finally brought from Finn’s at the worst possible time. She thought she would be heading back home with her friend, not with the man she’s fucking occasionally.

God, she’s gonna _murder_ Kaydel on Monday.

Ben gives her a weird look when he notices how heavy the bag is. He follows her inside the lobby, straight to the elevator. “What the fuck do you carry here?”

She presses the 7 on the elevator’s panel and inhales deeply. “Sorry, I picked the worst day to bring it with me, but it’s just a few textbooks I left at Finn’s last time we were studying together. And then some shoes and clothes I forgot there before I moved out to my own place,” she explains.

He hums, noncommittal. And then: “Who’s Finn?”

Rey turns her head to stare at him. He’s staring back, a strange glint in his eyes, the lines of his forehead furrowed together. For just a second, Rey wonders if he’s jealous of Finn, but she brushes the thought away as soon as it crosses her mind, because it’s preposterous. There’s no way he’s jealous. Maybe he’s only making small talk because it’s awkward, sometimes, when there’s nothing filling the silence between them. And probably because he’s only following her inside now because she promised to suck him off. They’ve never really had to talk, before, because she’s always waiting for him and they get straight to business. Well, at least after he talks and plays a bit with Pancakes.

“Finn is my best friend,” she replies after a while. And then, only god knows why, she adds, “He’s living with his boyfriend now. That’s why I moved out.”

“That’s cool.”

“Yeah, they’re amazing—” She almost says _You would like them,_ but stops herself because this is not what this is. He doesn’t need to meet her friends, and she doesn’t need to meet his.

They reach her floor and she strolls ahead of him while Ben hauls her bag across the corridor. She reaches for her keys inside her purse and opens her door unceremoniously, being met with the sight of Pancakes lying down on her coffee table. He chirps and rubs up against Ben. Rey rolls her eyes and grabs the bag from him, carrying it to her bedroom, leaving him and Pancakes to their own endeavors. She drops the bag in the corner of her room and strips down to her underwear, grateful for having showered in the employee’s bathroom of the club, because she’s so damn tired. She just wants to sleep. And then she remembers the promise she’s made to Ben and why he’s still there in her living room. She huffs out a breath and picks up an oversized t-shirt she always sleeps with on out of her hamper and drags it over her head, deciding to blow him right there in the living room, kneeling between his legs while he sits on the couch.

Dragging her feet, she goes back to the living room, only to find Pancakes resting on Ben’s lap. He scratches his head, murmuring what good of a boy he is. It’s a scene that makes her pause. Why the fuck does her cat like him so much? He’s always been so antisocial and a pain in the ass to all of Rey’s friends. What is it about Ben that makes Pancakes behave like he’s actually a good cat and not a beast? And why does it make her heart thud furiously against her rib cage, almost stealing her breath away?

It’s a new feeling, the one flowing through her body, lodging itself in her heart.

When he notices she’s there, he tells her without looking at her, “Sorry, he just jumped on my lap and I didn’t have the heart to make him move.” He picks up Pancakes and places him on the other side of the couch and stands up. “Anyway, I’m going, then. Have a good night, Rey.”

She blinks at him, putting her hand at his chest to stop him. “What? Why are you leaving?”

He looks puzzled. “I’m tired and you’re home, so…” he trails off.

“No,” she shakes her head, moving her hands down his chest, aiming for his jeans to unbuckle his belt. “I promised you.”

He stills her hands and gives her a hard, angry glare. Why is he _mad_ at her for trying to keep on her promises? He huffs out a breath and grumbles, “Rey, I didn’t do that because you promised to swallow my cock down your throat. I did it because you asked me to. I wasn’t going to let you wander through the streets alone at this hour.”

His admission does _nothing_ to calm the storm that starts to rage inside her heart. On the contrary, it only adds fuel to it, allowing it to simmer to the point she’s almost breathless with it— the _longing_. _This_ feeling she recognizes all too well. It’s so jarring she mumbles without much conviction, “But—you _did_ say you started listening after I offered.”

“It was a joke,” he tells her softly. He’s still holding her hands and his touch affects her so deeply, grounding her to this moment. To him. “If someone offers me that, what am I supposed to say?” he shrugs.

Rey _hates_ it—the burning jealousy that lodges in her chest. God, she’s had sex with so many people before him and she never reacted like this, never felt this way. She shouldn’t feel this way now especially since they’re only fucking around. She doesn’t know what it is about him. There are words caught in her throat, trying to come out.

_Don’t do it, Rey. Don’t do it_.

But it’s useless. She can’t control it, not when she’s so overwrought from all the work and studying she’s done for the past few weeks. “Oh, I see, so the problem is me. That’s why you don’t want me to do it now? I thought you liked the last time.”

She regrets saying the words aloud as soon as they’re out of her mouth. They don't make any sense and she knows it.

Ben stares at her like she’s grown another head. “Rey— _what_? No. I’m saying that if the woman I’m having sex with—that’s _you_ , by the way—offers me _that_ , of course I’m listening, of course I’m interested. But you don’t need to. Not if it’s not something you feel obligated to do, as a payment for something as trivial as picking you up when you needed me to, in the late hours of the night.”

She drags her hands out of his hold and presses them on her forehead. She doesn’t look at him when she tells him in a low voice, “I don’t like asking for favors.”

He shrugs again. Looks at her like he doesn’t really know what to say, then replies, “Right.”

“So, please…” she pleads.

A part of her is insisting because she truly doesn’t like asking and owing favors to people, but there’s a tiny part of her that feels like she’s just been rejected when the only thing she can offer him is sex. She’s a tired, irrational mess right now.

“Rey, honestly, I’m so worn out right now. And I’m sure you are, too.” She snaps her head to gaze back at him. “ _Believe me_ , it’s killing me saying no to sex with you, but this week has been hell. I just need to flop down on a bed and sleep for, like, a whole month.”

“Okay,” she nods. Her exhaustion and loneliness gets the best of her. So she blurts out, “Sleep here.”

“What?” he asks, eyes wide.

“Sleep here,” she repeats slowly.

“Rey, are you—”

“You’re too tired to drive back. It’s only fair that I let you sleep here, at least. Consider this is just me returning your favor.”

“Rey, I don’t want—”

“You can make it up to me in the morning,” she offers in a sweet voice. His interest piques immediately, she can tell. “I’m sure you have lots of ideas on how to do so.”

He chuckles, low, and she’s incapable of averting her eyes. His gaze is soft on hers, and it fills her chest with warmth. She wants to drown in that soft gaze.

Rey spins on her heels and he shows no resistance when she drags him by the arm to her bedroom. Quickly, Ben starts stripping, only turning around to look at her when he’s wearing nothing but his boxers. He asks, “Which side do you sleep on?”

“The left side,” she replies.

He nods and turns his back to her, walking towards the bed and flopping down on top of it just like he said a few minutes ago.

She huffs and walks to the bed, pushing the covers of the left side up, laying down underneath them after, crossing her arms on top of it. She stares at the skylight for a few minutes before she glances at him. His eyes are closed and he’s breathing softly through his nose.

Now, there’s no doubt in her mind he’s truly knackered, and she can calm herself down, washing away the feelings of rejection that coursed over her in the living room. She uses the opportunity to stare openly and study his face, with no fear of being caught by him: his aquiline nose, his full, pink lips, the brow ridge between his dark, arched eyebrows, his long lashes, soft jawline and the scattering of moles across his handsome face. He always mentions her freckles whenever he’s naked with her and he seems to have an obsession with them. Only now, seeing his own kind of beauty marks, she understands his obsession a bit better. She’s overcome with an urge to touch him, to trace a map with her thumb on the spots of his face. Rey reaches her hands up in an impulse and stops them mid-air when she realizes how awkward it would be.

She should just shift to the other side and go to sleep. Then, she remembers she hasn’t properly thanked him yet, for going out of his way to pick her up.

“Ben,” she whispers.

He hums, not opening his eyes.

“Thank you.”

His only answer is another hum.

Well, that settles it, then.

“And I hope to fucking god you don’t snore,” she warns him, before turning around to the other side, resting her hand under the pillow and dozing off to sleep.

🐱✨🐱

Ben wakes up with a heavyweight pressed on his arm. It takes him a minute to orient himself. He blinks, adjusting to the brightness of the room and looks down to find Rey snoring softly, her head resting on his arm. As entangled as they are, Ben thinks they must’ve gotten closer in the night, and as he gazes at her peacefully sleeping, he feels a warmth in his chest when it finally registers that he slept with her and she’s clinging to him. He leans in and presses a kiss to her forehead and inhales her smell. She barely stirs; only presses further into him, her bare thighs coming into contact with his _very_ hard cock. He takes a deep breath, noticing Rey kicked the covers in the night as they’re spread down the bed, and the t-shirt she slept in rolled all the way to her abdomen, giving him a plain view of her white cotton underwear. Her nipples are tight little peaks against the fabric of her shirt and it takes all of his willpower not to bend down and lick them through it. He doesn’t know how much time passes until he remembers what she said to him last night: _You can make it up to me in the morning._

Ben takes another deep breath and slips his arm off of Rey’s head, trying his hardest not to wake her up. Slowly, he parts her legs and pulls her underwear all the way down her ankle and throws it on the floor, before settling his head between her legs. He closes his eyes and drops a soft kiss to her inner thigh before tilting his head to lick a long stripe up her labia.

When it comes to sex with Rey, he doesn’t know what he likes best: burying his cock deep into her tight cunt or licking her, swallowing her wetness, basking in her taste. He’s kinda addicted to it, too, doing it every time they’re together, and it makes him laugh how impatient she gets when he takes his time with her.

He prods a finger inside her entrance, sucking at her clit, surprised how she barely stirs with his ministrations. He does whatever he wants with her in those minutes: curves two fingers inside her, making her arch and sigh, still fast asleep; licks and sucks at her clit, smearing his chin with how greedily he devours her, humping against her mattress in a bid to give his aching cock the friction it so badly needs. It gives him a wicked thrill, being allowed to use her body as he wants while she’s asleep, and god, he’s sure he’s never been harder in his life than he is right now.

Rey is a _fucking dream_. He always has a hard time wrapping his mind around the fact that this _beautiful, sweet girl_ lets him fuck her.

Only when he finally makes her come, a breathy moan escaping her lips, her thighs shaking leisurely, her cunt clenching around his fingers, that she mutters, “ _Ben_.”

He lifts his head and finds her looking at him, puzzled, eyes heavy with sleep. “Shh,” he replies, lapping up the mess dripping out of her cunt. “I’m just getting you ready for my cock, sweetheart. Go back to sleep.”

She mumbles something unintelligible and shifts her body to the other side, resting her cheek on her palm.

Ben slips out of bed and searches for his wallet in his jeans, grabbing a condom inside. He pulls his boxers down his thighs and rolls the condom on his cock quickly. Not wasting any time as he climbs back in bed, settling his body behind her, draping her left thigh on top of his, adjusting his cock at her entrance and pushing in.

He gasps, his vision whiting out for a moment as he sinks inside her. “God, Rey,” he breathes out, closing his teeth on her clothed shoulder. “You feel so fucking _tight_ like this, I almost think it won’t _fit, fuck—_ ”

Ben thrusts up into her roughly, heaving out ragged huffs of breath each time he drags his cock in and out of her. Rey starts to roll her hips back into him, meeting his thrusts, and he all but loses his mind, murmuring expletives into her neck. She’s awake now, not fully, but enough to realize what’s going on, and she moans lowly every time he slides back in with a rough shove. He feels his balls tightening on each thrust and he’s close, but he wants to feel her coming on his cock like this, their bodies snuggled against each other in the quiet hours of a Sunday morning. He slides a hand to the vee of her thighs, rubbing her clit with the pad of his thumb, and reaches the other hand up under her shirt, tweaking at her taut nipples. She _keens_ , her head rolling to the sides.

“Ben, _oh god, fuck_ , I— _yes, there, please_ , I’m so _close—_ ”

He rams into her a bit more forcefully and the bed creaks beneath their frantic movements. He can tell how close she is by how hard her cunt clenches around his cock. The tightness and the friction are driving him over the edge, but he needs to bring her along with him. “You are doing so good, Rey,” he rasps against her neck. “Letting me fuck you while you slept, god, taking my thick cock in your _tight_ pussy so well, my _good girl_ —”

“Thank you, thank you, _oh please_ , Ben, _please—_ ” she babbles incoherently, desperately, and there’s a wicked part of him that rejoices at turning her into an incoherent, desperate mess.

“You can come now,” he says. “Come on, show me how much of a good girl you can be and _fucking_ come on my cock.”

He ruts into her one last time and she lets out a loud wail, her thighs shaking violently atop his, cunt clenching around his cock in an almost viselike hold, sending him straight to his orgasm as he spurts inside the condom with a grunt.

For a moment, the only thing that can be heard in the room is their labored breathing as they wait for it to get back to normal. After a while, still holding Rey snugly against his chest, still inside her, Ben places a soft kiss on her shoulder and whispers into her ear, “Well, guess I made it up to you already.”

Rey laughs, a rich and loud sound that makes his heart swell in his chest. She clings to the hand he still has under her shirt. “That was a very interesting way to wake up, _sir_. Had no idea you were into that.”

Ben chuckles, sucking a bruise into her neck, making her heave out a breathy sigh before he admits, “Me either. It seems like I have all these fee—” he stops and chooses a better word, “ _Urges_ when I’m with you.”

Rey stills in his embrace, her entire body going rigid, telling him she realized his slip-up. “Oh, well, thank you. That was…” she mumbles and trails off, as if thinking of a better word, too and adds, “Cool.”

He grimaces, and feels glad that she isn’t seeing his expression right now. “Cool. Yeah.”

An awkward silence stretches between them. Ben slips out of her, rolling to the side and standing up to dispose of the condom in the bathroom. He washes his face and stares at himself in the mirror, unsure of the protocol here. Should he just dress up and leave? Should he try and offer to make her breakfast? Considering how she reacted when he almost uttered the word _feelings,_ he doubts she will be okay if he overstays his welcome. It's a miracle she allowed him to sleep over.

No. Not a miracle. She was just returning the favor.

He sighs and leaves the bathroom, going back to the bedroom, finding Rey in the exact same position he left her a few minutes ago.

She lifts her head to stare at him standing naked in the middle of her room, and it’s ridiculous how he feels the tip of his ears going red after being there under her gaze. A smirk tugs at her lips.

“So…” he trails off.

“Do you have to go now?”

Her question surprises him. He shakes his head. “I don't have to be at the pub until later tonight.”

“Cool,” she replies. “Do you want to come back to bed?”

He sees in the way her eyes rake him up and down that she wants more sex. He’s not complaining about _that_ , but he’s also hungry, so he sees in this the opportunity to make her breakfast, at least once. “Yes. On one condition.”

She looks at him suspiciously. “What?”

“You’re gonna let me make breakfast,” he proposes.

She fidgets on the bed, avoiding his gaze. “I don't know—um, I don't usually eat breakfast.”

“Fine. Then it’s just for me. I’m starving.”

She scoffs. “Seriously?”

“Yeah. Haven't eaten anything since 7 p.m. last night,” he tells her.

Ben approaches the bed, crouching down on the floor to grab his boxers. He pulls it up and turns his back to her, making his way out of the bedroom.

“Seriously?” she repeats, voice tinged with disbelief.

He’s pushing his luck, he knows it. But he can't help himself when he mumbles over his shoulder, “Rey, I’m very serious. If you want me to fuck you again, you gotta wait until after I eat something.”

He hears her footsteps in the hall, following him, smirking to himself and turning his face into a neutral expression when she steps in front of him, finger-pointing at his chest.

“So you’re just going to invade my kitchen and raid my fridge? Just like that?”

He lifts his shoulder in a shrug. “Guess I am.”

Her cheeks are flushed and there's a glimmer of annoyance in her eyes. She looks so adorable when she's angry that it's hard for him to not kiss her senseless and throw her over his shoulder and take her back to the bedroom, just so he can fuck her again. “One of these days I’m gonna kick you out of here so hard you’ll feel my foot on your butt for days, Solo.”

He feigns innocence, his brow furrowing, “I can leave, if you want.”

She scoffs and doesn't say anything.

Ben thinks that the idea of spending a lazy Sunday in bed is as enticing to her as it is to him. He tries not to let it take up a lot of space in his heart and give him hope, because it doesn't mean anything, really.

She just wants sex.

“Thought so,” he replies smugly. “Come on, let’s go, _sweetheart_. I’m starving.”

She curses him under her breath but follows him to the kitchen anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> come scream with me about reylo and taylor swift on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/foIkIxre)! 🥰💕
> 
> P.s: if you've been in the reylo fandom for long, you know we run blockchains frequently. too many antis to deal with. so, if you ever try to follow me and find yourself blocked, FEAR NOT. you must have been caught in a blockchain and i'm deeply sorry about that. but i will happily unblock you if you leave me your @ in the comments. :)


	5. i know i've got issues (but they drown when i kiss you)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank y'all so much for the support and for reading this fic, every time I get one comment about it I get the biggest boost of serotonin!!! I'm not joking!!! Hope y'all will let me know what you think of this chapter as well 🥰💕
> 
> And thank you [maddy](https://twitter.com/darthswift13), [meg](https://twitter.com/redbelles) and [mila](https://twitter.com/nocturnes) for helping me turn this mess into something readable. Y'all are angels and I love y'all so much 🥰💕
> 
> The lovely [Jess](https://twitter.com/jessjuliana27) commissioned me to make a new moodboard for my fic and I was so touched. This is the result. <3
> 
> **WARNING** : I added the tags "Implied/Referenced Child Abuse" and "Emotional/Physological Abuse" because Rey shares a bit of her childhood starting on the paragraph "She starts speaking unbidden...", so please **proceed with caution.** You can start reading back on the next paragraph that starts with "She searches his eyes...". And I also wanted to say that tagging is a learning curve and I'm always open to debate about it, and I will add any tag you want me to if you think I missed it. Just please share in the comments and I'll do it, **no questions asked.** Thank you for reading and I'll see you again next week!

The thing about doing something for the first time is that it’s incredibly easy to find reasons to do it for the second time, the third, and so on. After that Sunday that Ben spent most of the day at her place—alternating his time between making a mess in her kitchen, playing with Pancakes and fucking her into her mattress—they start to spend more time together. It completely changes the dynamic of their arrangement. He starts to come over more often, usually letting Rose in charge at the pub—recently promoted as manager—to help her study for a few hours before they move to the bedroom. On those days, it’s common for them to spend the night having sex, and Rey doesn’t even ask for him to leave, usually falling asleep with him in a jumble of tangled limbs, only for them to wake up in the morning and have sex again, slow, soft and sleepy, before Ben finally gets up and goes straight to the kitchen to cook them breakfast.

He always kisses her forehead, one hand at the nape of her neck and the other on her waist, and wishes her a good day before he goes, often leaving her in a muddle of confusion and fear, because the longing in her chest just seems to be growing stronger.

And they _talk_. About everything and nothing at the same time. Ben asks trivial things about her, like whether she prefers coffee or tea; what’s her favorite movie; favorite book; favorite band.

He makes a face at her when she tries to pretend she isn’t listening to him and she begrudgingly answers him: tea, of course, to which he grimaces and she rolls her eyes, telling him she only drinks coffee before and after her exams; when she tells him she loves _When Harry met Sally_ he smiles at her with a weird glint in his eyes that stays there after she confesses her favorite book is _Pride and Prejudice_ ; and he straight up laughs when she tells she doesn’t have a favorite band, but she sings most of Taylor Swift’s songs in the shower, which earns him a kick in the shin.

And then he moves onto difficult questions, like where her family is and why she wants to be a social worker. She doesn’t answer those. He shares pieces of information about himself here and there that she can’t help but store in her mind, like how his mom and uncle are twins; that he went to a Rolling Stones concert with his dad when he was a teen; how he learned how to cook with his grandma, and the weird obsession he had with his grandfather while he was growing up.

One late night, after having sex, they lay side by side, waiting for their breathing to go back to normal, Ben blurts out that he misses his father. It startles Rey, his sudden confession; she doesn’t know what to say, what to do. She shifts her head to the side, staring at him, finding him already staring at her, his eyes brimming with emotion. “I used to fight him a lot,” he whispers. “He wanted me to follow his path and he resented me when I chose to go to college and follow my own path instead.”

His hand comes up to her hair, brushing it out of her forehead. She inquires, “What did you study?”

He chuckles. “Political science.”

“Oh my god,” she shrieks, putting a hand on her mouth in shock. “I _never_ would’ve guessed it.”

He nods, chuckling again, and then: “My dad retired and reached out to make amends with me for years, but I was always too busy working, and didn't want anything to do with him. Found out when it was already too late that he had just a few months to live.”

“I’m sorry,” she tells him sincerely.

“So I quit my job, moved back and stayed with him and my mother, helping him around at the pub until he couldn’t anymore.” He sighs deeply. “I lost so many years, Rey. I’ve wasted so much time. I never want to make the same mistake again. Not anymore.”

It’s dark in the bedroom, but Rey can see how his eyes glimmer with a fierceness that scares her. She lowers her head, tucking her chin.

She feels his eyes on her still, and after a while, he asks again, “Why do you want to be a social worker, Rey?”

Rey doesn’t know what makes her want to bare her soul to him. If it’s the way he gazes at her so intently and earnestly or because he shared something so personal to him, shared his hurt with her.

She starts speaking unbidden, “I grew up in the system. Some were good foster homes, which made me believe I finally had a family, only to be sent back like a defective product once they realized they could have their own kids. Some were… awful and extremely abusive. The last one I went to… the man made me work for food. He starved me if I didn’t come back with a certain amount of money. Beat me, too, if I spent too much time without eating and tried to steal his food.”

A lump gets caught in her throat, tears fill her eyes.

Ben is silent, his gaze intent on her. ”I tried to tell someone about it. _Anyone_ who would listen, who would just pay attention to me about what was happening. No one listened. No one cared.” The tears stream down on her face now, silent and heavy, and her heart contracts in her chest at the flood of memories. “Finally, when I was so close to giving up, a social worker called Maz came to pay him and his wife a surprise visit. One look at me and she knew.” She takes a deep breath, centering and reminding herself that she’s not there anymore. She’s _safe_. “She saved my life. Now I want to help other kids that are going through the same thing, too. I want them to never feel like I felt: like I was nothing, and so, so alone.”

She searches his eyes in the dark, trying to see if his gaze shifts. The last thing she wants is for him to pity her.

She doesn’t see anything like that in his eyes, though. His eyes shine with unshed tears and a whole lot of emotions Rey has some difficulty identifying. “Thanks for telling me,” he murmurs softly.

Then, he leans in and closes his mouth on hers, kissing her _oh_ so softly, so unlike any kiss he’s ever given her before. It doesn’t have any urgency or franticness, like when he’s possessed by the need to bend her over and dominate her in bed. She guesses the kiss is his way of trying to comfort her, to make her feel better. It warms her entire body, the way his lips work over hers. It makes her jittery, like maybe there’s something he can give her if only she asks, but she doesn’t know _what_ exactly, doesn’t even know _how_ to put the thought into words. She feels like she’s adrift with no chance of being rescued. Even though she’s isn’t, even though she’s an independent woman, she thinks that opening the box of memories made her go backward emotionally. She feels the way she felt as a kid: utterly and completely alone.

Afterward, she doesn’t know how much time has passed; it feels like an eternity, with the careful and gentle way Ben has been kissing her. And as if he’s heard her thoughts, he hauls her into his arms, laying her body on top of his, resting her head on his chest. He kisses her temple, her forehead, her hair, every patch of skin of hers his lips can reach, while they’re lying like this. And she feels his deep voice rumbling in his chest underneath her ear when he speaks. “You’re not alone, Rey.”

She closes her eyes.

His words are a balm to her wounds, tethering her to that moment, to him. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat lulls her to sleep.

She dreams of him.

And in her dream, she’s not rendered speechless.

Instead, she sees herself replying to him: _Neither are you, Ben._

🐱✨🐱

It doesn’t come as a surprise to Ben when his mind finally catches up with his heart and he acknowledges to himself that he’s unquestionably, irrevocably in love with Rey. It _does_ surprise him that it took six months for it to happen.

Ben reflects that the realization of his feelings has been hitting him gradually, his emotions unfolding unhurriedly, perhaps since he first laid eyes on her, and even more since their first night. He was captivated by her from the very beginning, and the more he spent time with her, the more he wished for _more_ than just what they have.

It happens on an ordinary day, when he's busy with a menial task of his job. He’s doing inventory with Rose in the storage room and she asks him if he’d like her to set him up with a friend of hers. The idea repels him immediately; and then he asks himself _why_ , because he’s sure Rey wouldn’t mind it, and the thought of her not being bothered by him going out with someone else makes something tug at his heart. The wheels shift in his brain, and then it _clicks._ He turns around to face Rose and the words come out of his mouth unbidden, his brows furrowing, ”Sorry, I can’t.”

Rose scoffs, and he knows that she's already used to him saying no every time she asks that. She goes on a tangent he knows all too well by now: “Why? Ben, it’s been so _long_ since I’ve seen you date someone, don’t you think it’s time to put yourself out there? I know you focused on managing the pub and it’s been hard for you since your father died, but you’re still young and—”

Ben can barely pay attention to Rose’s rambles. She has good intentions and he loves her dearly, but his mind is loaded with images of Rey, replaying the moments of them together, and _god_ , it amazes him at the urgency he feels welling up right now. How much he longs for her presence and her smile all day, and how much he wants to make her happy. He thinks about how it’s been getting difficult not to let the intensity of his feelings cloud the way he acts whenever he’s with her. Because lately he's been genuinely afraid of freaking her out, causing her to end their arrangement. It’s better for him to have these small crumbs of her than not have her at all. He tries to mask his fears with aloofness. It doesn’t always work; especially when they’re in bed and he’s mesmerized by her, and he whispers sweet words of praise across her skin, hoping that it doesn’t bother her.

He’s in _love_ with her. What he’s feared since the beginning, has finally happened.

Ben is doomed, he knows that, but at least he finds some consolation in the fact that it’s better to be aware of his situation than not at all.

And as he interrupts Rose before her pep talk gets longer, he pronounces his realization aloud for the first time, “Rose. I’m—I’m in love with someone.”

It’s jarring how confessing it aloud both relieves and terrifies him, at the same time. It’s an odd sentiment at best, because the comfort he feels is immediately followed by dread, because he recognizes he's in this alone. Not once in all the time Ben spent with Rey did she give any indication that she changed her mind about possibly wanting to evolve their relationship past the point of, to be crude, _fucking_.

Ben turns his attention back to Rose. She frowns. “I-what? I didn’t even know you were dating someone.”

Ben shakes his head and a rueful smile fills his lips. “I’m not. It’s… _complicated_.”

She stares at him, waiting for him to go on. He sighs and pivots, leaving the storage room with Rose in tow. He moves behind the counter and serves himself a neat pour of whiskey.

“Wow, it's that serious, huh?” Rose jokes.

He nods stiffly and gulps the liquid in one go, squeezing his eyes shut as the drink burns down his throat. He swivels and stares at Rose, but remains silent.

Her face is full of concern. “Ben, what’s going on? Why is it complicated?”

“I met her here, about six months ago,” he tells her slowly, staring at nothing. “We clicked instantly. She’s… _amazing_. Incredibly smart. Gorgeous. And so _fucking young_ ,” he groans and shakes his head once again, as if only now he's reevaluating his actions. He takes a deep breath. “We… had sex. I thought it was going to be just a one-night stand, but I didn’t want that, and it turns out neither did she. But she doesn’t want anything serious, either. So I agreed, thought it was going to be fine and I’d be okay with just having sex, but the more time I spend with her, the harder it gets to leave,” he finishes with a long-suffering sigh.

Rose gives him a compassionate look.“Maybe you can talk to her? Tell her how you feel?”

“No. I can’t. She explicitly stated she doesn’t want a relationship at the moment.”

“Maybe she’s changed her mind,” Rose offers weakly.

Ben likes the sentiment, but it doesn't seem possible. He opens his mouth to deny the possibility. “I doubt it. In a way, we’re in different stages in our lives and she's barely just started hers. She has a bright future ahead of her, she wants to make a difference in her field and I have no doubt in my mind that she will. And I…” he trails off, no longer wanting to spew out his insecurities.

“And you _what?_ ” Rose challenges.

“And I already reached my quota of fuck-ups in life. I've started over. I was _fine_. I wasn't counting on her coming here and turning my world upside down.”

“But she did.”

“Yeah—yeah, she did,” he rasps out.

“That’s why you gotta tell her, Ben,” Rose insists.

“No. There's no point. And honestly, I don’t wanna be a setback in her life. I don't want to ask if she wants to be with me for real and then a few months later she decides we're not it for each other and we’ve wasted all this time for _what_? Just for more heartbreak. I don't want her to wake up one day and realize I was the fuck-up in her life.” he clears his throat, trying to work past the lump that's lodged there. “She deserves to have only good things in her future. She's gone through a lot already.”

“You’re a _good_ thing, Ben. I know you’ve been dealing with immense grief and remorse for everything that happened between you and your father, but you _have_ to let it go. You have to make peace with it. He already forgave you, so you have to forgive yourself. And you have to believe that you, _too,_ deserve only good things in the future, and that you’re _not_ going to be a fuck-up in someone else’s life.”

Rose’s words are meaningful and touch a deep wound inside Ben that hasn't fully healed yet. He has to turn around for a moment, because tears sting in his eyes and although he loves Rose to pieces, he's yet to get rid of the toxic idea that men can’t cry. He blinks a few times, trying to calm down.

Rose’s voice is soothing when she says, “Listen, Ben, I spent a year pining after Armie before I finally had the courage to tell him how I felt. And it turned out he felt the same way. When I think about the time we've wasted because we were scared, I want to _scream._ I know this shit is _scary_ and you can stay here all day trying to find reasons to not confess how you feel about her, but at the end of the day, you've gotta take a leap of faith.”

She squeezes his shoulder over the counter. “I’m gonna go finish inventory,” she declares and goes back to the storage room, leaving him to his thoughts.

Ben exhales. He remembers a few weeks ago, the night he confessed to Rey how much he misses his father and regrets his behavior, how he hates that he didn’t realize his mistakes until it was too late. He told her he didn't want to make the same mistakes again, because he’s wasted so much time—he lost valuable moments with his father because of old grudges that he held onto for so long, and for what? Now there's nothing left of it but insurmountable grief. Rose’s words echo through his head, too, about wasting time because she was afraid of being rejected by Armie and it feels like a _sign._

Ben used to think that he needed to kill his past. He often said it to himself as a reminder: _Let the past die. Kill it, if you have to._

But in the end, it served him nothing, because it was far from the truth—he didn't need to let the past die. He needed to make peace with it. And then _really, finally_ start over, without letting the shadow of his past mistakes loom over his head, stopping him from really living.

That afternoon, before he has to go back to open the pub and start working, he visits his father’s grave, and finally lets the tears he's been keeping inside for so long flow freely.

🐱✨🐱

It’s been weeks since Rey last saw Ben. She knew they were getting way too close for two people who only used each other for sex, and she had been trying to avoid texting him to come over too much, always telling herself it was the last time, ever since the night when she confessed what happened in her childhood to him. Something shifted for her then, and Rey decided that the reasonable thing to do was to spend some time apart, to give her perspective and not let the chemicals in her brain confuse her anymore.

It didn’t work for a while, because apparently it’s hard to have a crazy amount of mind-blowing sex for months on end and then stop it altogether. Her body ached for his, and she slipped up more often than she’d like to, but after the last time when she came home from that waitressing gig and he gave it to her so rough, spanking her and calling her a _bad girl_ , shoving into her from behind until she almost blacked out from coming so hard, she decided it really was the last time.

Not because she didn't _enjoy_ it—probably had been the best sex she's ever had with him, leaving her sore for days, and flashes of them kept going back to her mind whenever she thought of him—but because it's getting so difficult for her to not want _more,_ to wish she could take a few risks, just for him.

Alas, at last, she's finally managing. She tells herself it's because she's focusing on school and her midterms are coming, and work has been kicking her ass. She holds onto the idea because then it means that she doesn't care about him that much, that everything she's felt after that night was just a figment of her imagination, a result of whatever happens in someone’s brain after they orgasm.

She ignores the voice inside herself that tells she misses him: misses his voice whispering praises into her skin; misses the way he seems to consume her whole every time he thrusts inside her; misses the way his body molds hers, as if they were meant to be pieces of a puzzle finally falling into place; misses his warmth, when he made his chest her own private pillow, his body her own personal heater. She wonders if it's the same for him, since he hasn't texted her at all, too. Sometimes, she wishes that he reached out, _just once_ , and asked _her_ to come over his place, for a change.

But he doesn’t.

So she completely ignores all of that.

No point in letting herself be deceived by her emotions, by wishes that won’t come true.

As the song she's heard so much when she was a little girl on her most lonely nights, _Wishing only wounds the heart._

Rey stops wishing. She never should’ve started in the first place.

🐱✨🐱

After her last midterm, Rey steps out of the classroom and finds Finn waiting for her outside. As they walk side by side on the hallway of the main building of their campus, Finn launches on the latest news about his life, i.e what it means to be living with his boyfriend for the past year, and how hard it is sometimes not to kick him out.

“I swear to god, Rey, now he wants us to adopt a dog,” Finn tells her, exasperatedly. “And you don’t even know the worst part of it all.”

Rey tilts her head to look at Finn, a smile on her lips. “What’s the worst part?”

“He wants to name it _BB-8,_ ” Finn replies, emphasizing the way it’s spelled to her. “Can you believe it? _BB-8!_ Who, in their right mind, wants to name their dog like _that_?”

Rey throws her head back with laughter.

And Finn continues, outraged, “And I am not against adopting a dog. I _love_ dogs! I’m totally a dog person. But BB-8?” He shakes his head. “No, I can’t do that.”

Rey can’t leave the amusement out of her tone when she suggests, “Why don’t you just talk to him about choosing another name?"

“Nah,” Finn shakes his head, a beaming smile forming on his lips. “He gets all excited, talking about it. ‘Our future dog BB-8’ this and that, and I just can’t crush his happiness,” he finishes with a shrug.

Rey glances at her best friend with an affectionate smile. “Oh, mate, you’re so _screwed_.”

Finn scoffs, feigning annoyance, “Oi, don’t you think I know it?” Then, his smile only grows bigger, and he says in a soft voice, “I think he’s it for me, Rey. He’s the one.”

A wistful ache wedge inside Rey’s heart, and it’s somewhat instinctual, how her thoughts veer to Ben. It kind of breaks her heart, a little, the awareness that what Finn’s found with Poe is she’ll never have, because no one will ever think she’s _the one_. Because she can’t ever let people in. Because the outcome will always be the same: they will leave her, like everyone else in her life has. She tries to work past the lump in her throat to express how happy she is for her best friend and Poe, because she _is_. She really is. It’s good to know Finn got lucky enough to find someone he loves and loves him back, even in the midst of the many misfortunes he went through in life. It kinda dulls the pain, the ache in her heart that this will never happen with her, that this will never be her life. At least someone she loves unconditionally has found it.

“I’m happy for you,” she says at last. “You and Poe are perf—” She stops in her tracks when she looks ahead and sees a familiar figure sitting on the bench she always sits at with Finn.

“Rey?” Finn calls, glancing back and forth to her face and to where Rey’s gaze is focused. “What happened? Who’s that?”

“It’s… someone I know,” she explains weakly. Finn raises his eyebrows inquisitively. “I gotta go talk to him, but I’ll text you later, okay?”

She strides towards him before even waiting for Finn’s response. Each step she takes is amplified by the crescendo rhythm of her heart beating against her ribcage. It beats so fast she worries for a moment it might burst inside her chest, just at the sight of him. It’s _ridiculous,_ of course, to even think _that_ and she chastises herself for her thoughts, and wills herself to calm down.

It’s just Ben.

She hadn’t seen him in weeks, _yes_ , and her body is reacting in a stupid way because it’s pointless to deny that she _misses_ him, but it’s just Ben.

It’s gonna be fine. _Calm down, Rey._

As she reaches the bench and stands in front of him, her first instinct is to hug him. It makes her stagger, a little, how strong the urge is. In all the months they’ve known each other, she doesn’t think they’ve hugged once, at least not outside on the occasions he held her after sex. She crosses her arms, just to prevent herself from doing something stupid, like flinging into his arms.

She notices he’s holding two cups of coffee and tries to make her voice sound as casual as possible, to hide the sheer amount of longing that's bound in her chest: “Ben?”

Ben stands up, staring straight into her eyes. He seems tired, and probably hasn’t shaved in a day or two, a five o’clock shadow on his jaw. “Hi, Rey.”

“What’s up?”

It’s tough, aiming to be casual when she’s struggling so hard internally, almost on the verge of tears. She sinks her nails into her skin, just to keep her focused on something other than the pang in her chest.

He averts his eyes for a second before landing them back on her face. “I just wanted to know if you were okay,” he admits. “I know it's probably weird of me showing up here all of a sudden, but I was in the neighborhood…”

“It’s just a _tad_ weird,” she jokes with a smile. He nods, looking down at her feet, as if he didn't get her joke and feels uncomfortable to even be there. So she adds a second later, “You could’ve texted.”

He snaps his gaze back to hers. It’s like the thought didn’t even cross his mind, and honestly, it stings. He explains, “You’re the one who usually texts. And I figured you’d be busy with midterms and I didn’t want to bother you and—” he shakes his head as if changing his mind about what he was going to say. “Anyway, now I see that you’re okay, I’m relieved,” he finishes with a stiff nod.

Rey wonders if his worry is because he missed her as much as she missed him or because maybe he just missed having sex with her. It’s not hard for her to admit that they’re excellent at it; and she supposes the withdrawal would affect him just as much as it affected her.

She’s not ready to be touched by him again anytime soon, though. As terribly as she misses him, she’s afraid she’ll break into tiny little pieces when he leaves again.

“I’m fine, I’m just… busy,” she lies, and by the way he gives her a long, knowing gaze, she knows he can see right through her bullshit.

He smiles ruefully, then hands her a cup of coffee. She accepts it and he steps closer, inhaling quickly before planting a kiss on the top of her forehead. Her stomach flutters and she feels a tug at her chest because of his sweet gesture, causing a profound, age-old craving to awaken inside her, and for just a moment she wishes he’d kissed her mouth, instead. But he never does that outside of her bedroom.

Why would he start doing it now?

“Take care, Rey,” he whispers into her forehead.

It feels _final_ , his words, this moment.

It feels like this is the last time they’ll ever see each other.

He steps back and gives her another meaningful glance.

“I’ll text you,” she tells him.

He nods stiffly. “Sure.”

Then, he turns his back to her and starts to leave.

And it’s an awfully hollow feeling, watching him leave.

One that Rey is quite accustomed to, by now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> come scream with me about reylo and taylor swift on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/foIkIxre)! 🥰💕
> 
> P.s: if you've been in the reylo fandom for long, you know we run blockchains frequently. too many antis to deal with. so, if you ever try to follow me and find yourself blocked, FEAR NOT. you must have been caught in a blockchain and i'm deeply sorry about that. but i will happily unblock you if you leave me your @ in the comments. :)


	6. every drop of rain singing i love you (i love you, i love you, i love you)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Firstly, I wanna say I'm sorry again for not posting when I said I would! I lost a family member that was very dear to me and my grandma was hospitalized after that, so I was all over the place, trying to take care of her and deal with my own grief. Now I'm back for good, I think, and we're almost done with this fic, and omg I can't believe it! Secondly, I wanna thank everyone who left kudos and comments here, I appreciate every single one of you who give me a bit of your time to read and say what you think about my stories, seriously. It means the WORLD to me! I hope y'all tell me what you think of this chapter, too, and be ready for a little bit of angst before the sweet HEA, haha. :) 
> 
> See y'all next week!
> 
> And thank you [maddy](https://twitter.com/darthswift13), [meg](https://twitter.com/redbelles) and [mila](https://twitter.com/nocturnes) for helping me turn this mess into something readable. Y'all are angels and I love y'all so much 🥰💕
> 
> The lovely [Jess](https://twitter.com/jessjuliana27) commissioned me to make a new moodboard for my fic and I was so touched. This is the result. <3

It's not lost on Ben the irony of Rey arriving at the pub while Jeff Buckley’s _Lover, You Should’ve Come Over_ starts playing softly in the jukebox, on today of all days.

On the second anniversary of his father’s death.

It’s already a challenging, atypical day for him—he went to visit his father’s grave almost two months ago, a few days prior to meeting Rey that afternoon, so he didn’t feel like going again today. He _did_ spend an hour with his mother on the phone this morning, sharing anecdotes about Han—memories about him kept rushing to Ben’s mind and he just couldn’t stop the flow of stories, to which his mom listened patiently, occasionally sharing stories of her own, way before they ever dreamed of having him. It felt nice, liberating; like Ben finally recognized that Leia carried the same amount of grief in her heart, and they could help each other with easing the heavyweight for a little while. “I believe that wherever he is, he’s proud of you, Benny,” she added with a broken voice that told him she was close to crying, using the nickname they both had for him when he was little, which only made tears well up in Ben’s eyes. “I hope you know that.”

He thanked his mother and hung up, giving himself time to shed a few tears, and then started his workday.

-

After his encounter with Rey on her college campus, his determination to confess his feelings for her faded completely, and just like he thought, she didn't text him for over a month. He had come to terms with the fact that it wasn't worth trying, because as much as they were fantastic at sex together, they weren't in sync on everything else that mattered to build an emotional relationship.

They just weren't meant to be.

He thought he was never going to see her again, and he had made peace with that, too.

(Mostly. He missed her so much some days, he almost caved in and called, just to hear the sound of her voice.)

It’s a shock to see her there, now, wearing light denim jeans and an emerald green sweater, her chestnut hair falling on the sides of her shoulders in long waves down past her breasts, the straps of her backpack hanging on just one of her shoulders. Their gazes lock onto each other instantly, like two magnets, and she keeps hers steady as she strides over to the counter.

She flops down on the leather stool, setting her backpack on the other one next to her and greets him politely. “Hey, stranger.”

Maybe _too_ politely _._ He feels exactly what she jokingly called him: a _stranger._ Like everything that happened between them has already washed away out of her mind.

“Hey, what’s up?” he shoots back, aiming for some kind of detachment he can’t ever feel around her, not even when they met months ago.

“I just thought of stopping by,” she replies and he can’t help but frown. “Instead of texting, I mean,” she adds quickly, when she sees his expression.

“An improvement of sorts,” he jokes.

“Yeah,” she shrugs. “Maybe.”

He stares at her for a while before offering, “Do you want a drink?”

“No,” she shakes her head and glances around, then glances back at him. “I was just walking on my way home from horror movie night at Finn and Poe’s, and then Kaydel decided to make us all suffer by putting on _The Notebook_ just after we watched _Midsommar_. So I left.”

“Oh, man, I love that one,” he blurts out.

“ _Midsommar_?”

“No. _The Notebook,_ ” he admits, feeling the tip of his ears going pink.

Rey snorts. “No shit.”

“Yep,” he sighs. “Used to watch it with my dad, usually when he had a fight with my mom. He was into that _If you're a bird, I’m a bird_ shit.”

Rey bursts into laughter, her eyes crinkling with glee before she asks in a mocking tone, “Did you two also cry at the end?”

He glares daggers at her, which only makes her laugh harder. After a beat, he reluctantly confesses: “We bawled our eyes out.”

Rey sucks in a lungful of breath, wiping at the tears leaking at her eyes. “Oh, mate, this is _priceless_.” He rolls his eyes at her and she apologizes. “Sorry! I’m not making fun of you, I just never thought you'd be the type to enjoy films like that.”

Ben doesn't know exactly _what_ strikes at him—perhaps it's because he's extra emotional about his father and he shared something about them, perhaps it's because of her words, admitting she never thought he'd be a certain type when she never cared to find out _what_ type of guy he is or perhaps it's because he's in love with her and the thought that she'll never reciprocate his feelings makes him angry or perhaps it's a combination of all this—when he snaps, “Well, I guess you don’t really know me, right?”

He regrets it as soon as the words are out of his mouth. Not because the words aren't true, but because of the expression on Rey’s lovely face—it crumples instantly, the traces of laughter that were in her eyes a second ago vanishing in a flare of hurt.

She stares down at her lap and then raises her head back to stare at him, muttering lowly, “Right.”

He rushes to apologize. “Rey, I—”

She stands up in a haste, dismissing him with a wave. “It’s okay. It was nice seeing you, Ben,” she mutters and quickly turns her back to him, striding towards the door.

Ben passes over the counter and follows her before it's too late, only to stumble into her slender body at the corner of the door, trying to protect herself from the heavy and incessant, almost torrential downfall of rain. He does the same right beside her, and closer like this, he can sense her body’s warmth, can smell the lavender of her shampoo.

He’s right next to her and still he misses her terribly.

“Shit,” she hisses and he doesn't know if it's because of him or the rain. Maybe both. She juggles her backpack to the front of her body and bends her knees up, balancing the bag on her right thigh and frantically moving her hands inside, searching for something. “ _Fucking shit_ ,” she mumbles again, more firmly. “I forgot my umbrella. _Shit._ ”

Apparently, it's his day for letting words run out of his mouth without thinking through, “How can you live in Chandrila and forget to put an umbrella in your backpack?”

She gives him a murderous glare, opens her mouth and closes it again, promptly giving up on dignifying that with an answer. Instead, she focuses on closing up her backpack and clutching it tight to her chest.

“Rey,” he sighs, exasperated. “I’m sorry. I didn't mean to—”

She cuts him off. “It’s fine. Just leave me alone, please.”

“I have an umbrella back inside. I can take you home.”

She seems irreducible on her resolve in not looking at him and rejecting his pleas. “Thanks, but no, thanks.”

He touches her arm, and she dares a glance at his hand on her arm and then at his face. “Rey, please— just let me take you home.”

She stares at him for a long time before nodding.

Quickly, Ben runs back inside and grabs his black umbrella that he always leaves under the counter and tells Mitaka—his new hire—to close up everything soon.

When he gets back, Rey is on the exact same spot he left her, staring straight ahead. Upon noticing he's back, she does glance at him and at the umbrella in his hand and scoffs. “ _That’s_ your umbrella? We’re going to get soaked either way.”

“Sorry,” he says, scratching the back of his neck. “That’s the only one I have right now.”

Rey sighs, closing her eyes for a moment, and then raises her head to look back at him. “Listen, can’t you just let me borrow it? I’ll give it back to you tomorrow.”

“Rey, it’s pretty late. I won't stop you from leaving if you really want to, but I’d feel less worried if you’d let me walk you home,” he argues. Then, he adds, pleadingly, “Please.”

Rey’s nod is brief and she doesn't twirl her gaze to him when he opens the umbrella and wraps his arm around her waist, pulling her closer into his body.

Finally, Ben moves away from the door, reaches the umbrella atop their heads and steps into the sidewalk. The rainfall becomes more intense, beads of water fizzing on top of his umbrella. Rey was right about it being too small for both of them. They _will_ get soaked—the ends of his jeans and the back of his black sweater already are—but the thing is: he doesn't really mind, because it's just a reason to pull Rey closer, to hold her tighter. She’s resolute on glancing forward as they walk as fast as they can holding each other like this.

The silence between them goes on for too long, and it feels so heavy in his chest. Ben realizes right then that his fear of falling in love with her went beyond the fact that he wasn't going to be reciprocated; it’s something deeper inside him, some age-old insecurity that he’s never managed to grow out of. He doesn’t know how to deal with how urgent and intense his feelings always became. He doesn’t know how to prevent the _fall_ from feeling like it happens as fast as a body falls from a balcony.

“I’m sorry for snapping at you earlier,” he apologizes suddenly, because the rain and his thoughts seem to be competing over which can be louder. He doesn't regret what he said, though, because it was the truth, and maybe because he hasn't seen her in over a month, or because being huddled together, sharing an umbrella on a stormy night makes him feel awfully vulnerable, and he wants to share it with her. More than a desire for her to know him, he selfishly wants to be comforted by the girl he's in love with. So he lays out his greatest hurt, the hardest thing he’s ever faced: grieving his father. “It’s been two years since my dad died today.”

She slants her chin at him, soft hazel eyes full of tenderness staring at him. Her mouth opens ever so slightly, like she’s finally comprehending the reason behind his behavior.

Which isn't what he wants: using this day as an excuse to have snapped at her. He wants his love for her to be a mirror of the tenderness he just saw on her gaze. He wants his love for her to be a repetition of the look that the social worker gave her when she saved her life: for her to feel _seen_ , _understood_ , and aware that she’s not _nothing_ to him, and that she’s not _alone._

So he apologizes again, firmly, “It’s not an excuse for snapping at you, though. I’m really sorry, Rey.”

🐱✨🐱

Rey’s score of things she’d regretted doing that night is up to two: agreeing to horror movie night with her friends, even though she already knows how it's going to pan out _every time_ : they watch one movie that they deem to be much too scary for them— _what's the point of horror movie night, then?_ she always asks herself—and moves on to watch a tooth-rotting rom-com, which she always _hates._ It's difficult for her to watch perfect scenarios of people finding love in the midst of obstacles when in reality life is so, _so_ different. It feels like a personal attack to her, so she always avoids them. Better to deal with jump scares than watch something she so desperately craves and knows she’ll never find. So she said goodbye to her friends and decided to walk back home, which led her to the second thing she regrets doing, even though one weighs heavier on the metaphorical balance of her fuck-ups than the other.

It’s difficult to keep her gaze ahead when it's so cold and the back of her sweater is all soaked up, and all she wants to do is snuggle closer to Ben, tilt her head to rest it under his arm, seek his body’s warmth and inhale the black walnut and cedar scent of his shampoo. _I miss you_ , she thinks, heart aching in her chest. It feels like her mind is screaming words she can’t really admit aloud: _I missed you so much. I don't know what to do. I've never felt like this about anyone._

And then he apologizes for telling her what really was the truth, and confesses what this day is to him, and she sees so much pain in his eyes that she can feel her heart breaking for him. She wishes she could somehow make it better. Her pain of being an orphan isn’t the same as his, of having had a father and a complicated relationship with him, to be still dealing with insurmountable grief two years later. Their pain isn't the same, but it _feels_ like it, sometimes, with the way she feels like she's breaking apart in front of him, and he's saying he's sorry again, soft voice full of worry about _her_ hurt.

Rey doesn't know what to say to make it better, but right there, sharing an umbrella in a stormy night with him, she reaches up in her tiptoes and does what she thinks could help a little, what she _hopes_ could help, and kisses him. He’s surprised, at first, but reciprocates her kiss a beat later, and _oh,_ how she missed it.

How she missed him.

_I don't know anything, but I know I missed you,_ she thinks in between kisses in the rain, and wishes he could read her mind in that instant, just so she could feel less alone and afraid of these feelings surging inside her and consuming her, making it feel like her body is falling down fast from a balcony, with no one to catch her fall.

🐱✨🐱

When they make it inside her building, Rey doesn't want to say goodbye to him. They’re more soaked than they should've been, proving she was right about how small the umbrella was for the two of them, and she just wants to get him upstairs and warm up. And the thing is, she doesn't even want to have sex with him… _that_ much. She really only wants his company for a little while longer.

Rey peers up at him and offers, casually, “Do you want to come upstairs? We can watch _The Notebook_ together.”

It's just a simple invite but her cheeks blush at the meaning, because _oh god_ , did she really just ask him to come up so they could watch a movie she _hates_ , instead of sex?

“I’m sorry I made fun of you because of that movie,” she explains, straying her eyes from his for just a second. “Consider the invite as my apology.”

“You said you weren't making fun of me earlier,” he reminds her, thick left eyebrow raising just a little.

“I was, just a little bit,” she confesses, embarrassed. “I’m an idiot. I’m sorry.”

He scoffs. “You’re not an idiot, stop saying that. And you're forgiven.”

He doesn't say anything about her invite, and for a moment she thinks she's pushing it. But Rey really doesn't want him to go, and forgetting her stupid pride for a second, she insists, “So… _The Notebook_? Upstairs? With me?” she wiggles her eyebrows suggestively and he lets out a low chuckle.

God, no matter what he says, she _is_ an idiot. She’s almost melting on the spot just because of the sound he’s just made.

“What if I end up crying in front of you because of the ending?”

Rey steps closer and turns her head around to check if they're alone in the lobby. On her tiptoes, she nibbles lightly on his jaw. “Pancakes can comfort you.”

“Mmm.” He hums and she notices he closed his eyes when she began nibbling on his jaw. “He’s a cute fluffy ball, perfect for cuddling.”

Rey’s mouth moves up to a soft spot between his ear and neck and she feels the goosebumps on his skin when she presses a kiss there. “He really is. And he likes you so much.”

“But what if I want more?” he asks, tilting his head to the side to meet hers, their lips mere inches apart.

His question makes her heart speed up so fast she almost takes a step back. But she doesn't. Instead, she holds his gaze and she coos in the most seductive tone she can manage, “Well, you can always fuck me into the mattress, then.”

Something shifts in his gaze for just a fleeting second, but Rey can't help but suppose that she said the wrong thing, second-guessing herself. Then, it's over as quickly as it passed on his eyes and he nods and digs his fingers into her waist and catches her lips in a slow kiss, making her forget her insecurities for a moment.

🐱✨🐱

Once they get upstairs, they both strip down to their underwear and Rey throws their damp clothes in the dryer. After, she changes into the shirt she always sleeps in and gives Ben a t-shirt he forgot there a few months ago and he sits on the couch, Pancakes lying next to him, licking his paws and purring happily as Ben slowly strokes his head.

Rey heads to the kitchen and makes popcorn and tea for them, going back to her bedroom and picking up a cozy blanket to drape over them while they watch the movie. Once she's done, she climbs on the couch next to him and presses play.

Outside, the storm rages on, the rain thrumming on the window. It would be something to snatch Rey’s attention from the movie, but that's not why it’s difficult for her to concentrate. It’s the intimacy of the entire situation, how domestic it feels to be sitting beside Ben and simply watching a movie together. They’ve done a few ordinary things before, like when he sometimes helped her study and when they had breakfast together in the morning, but it was always been something that lead to or came after sex. Rey doesn't remember the last time she had sex with someone _and_ watched a movie with them. She doesn't think that she'd done that with her last girlfriend, in the short three months they were together. Gulping, she realizes she's known Ben for eight months now, and she's been having sex with him for almost as long. Longer than any of the other ill-fated relationships she's had in her life.

Ben, on the other hand, doesn’t seem to be having a hard time with all of this. He watches the entire movie without uttering a single word, eats almost the entire bowl of popcorn she's made, and occasionally sips on his tea. His thigh relaxes alongside hers, and his body is warmer than the blanket she's draped over them. He nuzzles in close to her, the top of his spine resting against her chest. Rey’s hand moves on its own volition to his head, tangling her fingers on his luscious, soft hair, scratching her nails on his scalp. He lets out an exhale of pleasure, and Rey lets out a sigh of her own, content to focus on playing with his hair.

The movie ends. The credits roll on the screen in front of them and Rey stirs the hand in his hair, unsure of what to do. He didn't so much as move after she began playing with his hair, and she doesn't know if he cried or not, as he's staring straight ahead and she can't see his face. She wants to give him time, for whatever he wants to pour out, but he only cranes his neck to stare at her, unshed tears in his eyes. She leans in and presses a long kiss on his cheek. His eyes flutter shut. Then, he hauls her into his lap and she feels his hard cock pressing against her cunt. He stands up with his arms looped around her waist and the blanket drops on the floor, forgotten in the living room while he carries her to the bedroom.

🐱✨🐱

Their movements are slow when they get to Rey’s bedroom. He puts her on the bed, both of them kneeling on the mattress. It doesn't have the frenzied haste from all their other times before. The urgency in the way his hands roam on her body to lift her shirt up over her head and pull down her knickers has a slightly different edge to it, almost as if he’s scared of not being able to do it again, almost as if it's the last time he’s doing it.

Like he's saying goodbye.

Rey stifles the thought even as it causes an ache to settle in her chest. He’s probably just overwhelmed about everything else. She asks if he's okay, tells him they don't need to have sex if he doesn't want to, that they can just go to sleep, but he just grunts some unintelligible word and claims her mouth in a bruising kiss. His hand drifts to her cunt and he slips two fingers inside, already finding her soaking wet for him. She cants her hips into his fingers, chasing the friction she so desperately needs and exhales a shaky breath against his kiss. He withdraws his hand and she whimpers, her lips following his when he breaks their kiss. He pulls away and quickly lifts his t-shirt over his head, and yanks his boxers off before scooting back up the bed, kneeling over her.

His expression is serious, a piercing stare locked on her face when he drags her legs apart, gripping both of her thighs, and lining the tip of his cock on her entrance, ready to push in.

Then, she remembers.

“Wait,” she gasps out. “Ben, we need—we need a condom.”

His chest heaves with an inhale and his shoulders hunch just a bit. “Right,” he nods, voice hoarse. He repeats, “Right,” and his grip on her thigh loosens.

Rey has never had sex without protection, even though she has an IUD, because she doesn't trust anyone. Still, there's a tiny part of her that feels disappointed in her responsible act of reminding them they need this barrier between them. There's a tiny part of her that wants to know how it feels to have his bare cock dragging inside her inner walls until he spills and coats her with his come. She extinguishes these thoughts and squashes her disappointment quickly, because to her, there's no point in wondering.

Sex without condoms is for people in a committed relationship, which is far from what she and Ben have.

She stretches her hand and opens the drawer of the nightstand beside her bed, grabbing a condom out. She tears the package with her teeth before she bends over and starts to roll it over his cock. Ben grunts, his thighs trembling as she does it slowly, almost teasingly.

But when she's done, he hoists her over his lap, her knees bracketing his hips as he pulls her down onto his cock in one long, swift stroke. Rey chokes out a breath and arches her back, now unused to the hot, large stretch of him inside her, spreading her open. Like this, sitting on his lap, she feels impaled, so close to bursting. His hands close around her middle, bringing her impossibly closer, his mouth moving to nip at her collarbone.

Gradually, Ben lifts her hips off him, only to roll her back down, making up a rhythm that’s so slow that it makes her feel each drag of his cock, every sensation prompting her to whimper softly. She lets him do whatever he wants to her: she’s helpless against the satisfaction she feels as he uses her body for his pleasure, her pleasure. _Theirs_. It's amazing, how he moves her like she weighs nothing, how every roll of her hips, every slam of his cock elicits the most debauched moans from her mouth.

“God, you feel even bigger like this,” she rasps out against the column of his throat. “Missed you splitting me open like this.”

“You’re _amazing_ ,” he whispers fervently, cradling her head to make her gaze up at him. His eyes are dark and hungry, but there’s a glint of something else, something that tugs at her heart and stays on the tip of her tongue, but she can't find the word for it. “You’re amazing, you feel so _good,_ god, how can I—” he abruptly cuts himself off, slanting his lips over hers in a searing kiss, that in contrast to the achingly slow pace of his hips rutting into hers, the slow slide of his cock in and out, leads her to dizziness.

She doesn't have the mind to ask “ _How can you what?_ ”

Rey doesn't know how much time passes as their bodies rock into each other, as the rain continues to rattle at the skylight on the ceiling. For all she knows, it could be seconds, minutes, hours. There's nothing in her mind but him, nothing in her mind but the way they gaze at each other, filling the gaps with gasps and moans before finding each other’s lips in languid kisses.

When she comes, it’s unlike all the orgasms he gave her before: violent, like the crash of big waves that leave her breathless and mind-blank. This one is like the ripple of a soft wave after the storm, that opens her mouth in a silent _oh_ and slows her movements to a halt as her entire body shudders softly. As she basks in the afterglow high, her body goes lax atop of him.

Ben’s hips rut into hers a few more times, stuttering, and his throat lets out a howl, muffled by the way he clings his mouth to her collarbone. Rey rests her head on his shoulder, squeezing her eyes shut, feeling his heartbeat and breathing slowly coming back to normal as they stay still for a moment, two bodies still united in the dark, while the city’s thunderstorm rages on into the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> come scream with me about reylo and taylor swift on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/foIkIxre)! 🥰💕
> 
> P.s: if you've been in the reylo fandom for long, you know we run blockchains frequently. too many antis to deal with. so, if you ever try to follow me and find yourself blocked, FEAR NOT. you must have been caught in a blockchain and i'm deeply sorry about that. but i will happily unblock you if you leave me your @ in the comments. :)


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